song lyrics Ante Up (robbin Hoodz Theory) lyrics Take minks off, take things off Take chains off, take rings off Bracelets is yapped, Fame came off Ante up, everything off
Fool, what you want? We stiflin fools Fool, what you want? Your life or your jewels? The rules, back em down, next thing, clap em down Respect mine, we Brooklyn bound now
Brownsville, home of the brave Put in work in the street like a slave Keep a rugged dress code, always in this stress mode That shit will send you to your grave, so?
You think, I don t know that? Blow Nigga hold that, blow, nigga hold that, blow, nigga hold that From the street cousin, you know the drill I m nine hundred and ninety nine thou short of a mil
Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It s the perfect timin , you see the man shinin Get up off them God damn diamonds
Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him
Them thugs you know, ain t friendly Them jewels you rock, make em envy You thinkin it s all good, you creep through a small hood Goons comin up outta a cut for your goods and they all should
Ante up, yap that fool You want big money, kidnap that fool If you up in the club, back out your pistol money Catch them fools at the bar for that Crystal money
The 87 stick up kids, what you niggas sayin ? Get the fuck up, out that 740 shorty, I ain t playin It s flash that thang time, bang, bang time Ante up, nigga, it s game time
Hand over the ring, take over the chain Gimme the fuckin watch before I pop one in your brain Stop playin these childish games with me Representin 1-7-1-8, dangerously, nigga
Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It s the perfect timin , you see the man shinin Get up off them God damn diamonds
Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him
I ma, street regulator, true playa hater Get back down, make your ass a mack spraya hater Things that we need, money, clothes, weed indeed Hats, food, booze, essentials, credentials
Code of the streets, owners who creep Slow when you sleep, holdin the heat Put holes in your jeep, respect the streets It s the Lil Fame
Yeah, nigga Danze, gave you a chance Cuz I blazed your man, I m in the wrong He said he was strong I had reason to believe he had some shit up his sleeve all along
So? Fuck you, your honor, check my persona I m strong enough for old gold and marijuana I ma do what I wanna, quiet as kept Raise hell, til I was tired of stress, yes Lord
Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It s the perfect timin , you see the man shinin Get up off them God damn diamonds
Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him
The fuck, the fuck, the fuck Nigga, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? What? First family, first family, Brooklyn, yeah song lyrics
|