| 作曲 : Cruz, Martin | |
| Just gimme the countdown | |
| Know where we goin [scratched: "AZ"] | |
| Uh-huh "AZ" "Streets is yours for the takin now" | |
| Feels so good "AZ" [AZ:] | |
| You know the come up, stack get right, put the gun up | |
| Laugh, get nice, split the blunt up | |
| Pray blue and whites don't run up, remain humble | |
| You see the change when the | |
| Range come through | |
| When all the fame ups your game cause your name's mumbled | |
| The chicks notice, jewels is like hypnosis | |
| It's ferocious when broke niggaz get focused | |
| The cars come out, bottles at the bar run out | |
| You know you're large when you in car could dodge a drought | |
| But here's the twist up, when beef and the money mix up | |
| Skirts lift up, a few fights, few stick-ups | |
| Then one little thing just, leads to the next and | |
| Here come them hot boys to breathe down your neck | |
| Now you gotta pack up, flee from the rest and | |
| Just so we can go, you was free from the stress | |
| I guess it is what it is [Chorus: DJ Premier scratching] "Creepin on a come up" "Streets is yours for the takin now" "Creepin on a come up" "I'm from the place where hardcore is beautiful" "Creepin on a come up" "Streets is yours for the takin now" "I'm rather unique" "I'm from the place" "Brooklyn" [AZ:] | |
| You know the saga, who liver, who hotter | |
| Who shot at who at the | |
| Ramada I knew about beef since | |
| Bambaataa | |
| Before "Beat Street" streets was heavily deep with the riders | |
| Guns and money, some was hungry | |
| Dysfunctional families that come from junkies | |
| Jailbirds with wanted warrants up in countries | |
| Just jungle survivin like a bunch of monkies | |
| Marked dollars, | |
| D.A. NARC's with collars | |
| Niggaz snitchin, but still got the heart to holla | |
| Hot chicks in short skirts and damn near topless | |
| Play fly and they gossip, stay high and just ride dick | |
| Can't call it, too fresh to spoil it | |
| Two tecs to war with, grew up next to all this | |
| So understand | |
| I know from firsthand | |
| The lies of a church man, high off his first gram [Chorus] [AZ:] | |
| The jails is packed, the streets is wack | |
| It's even worse when your workers tappin your beeper sack | |
| Wifey's gettin feisty, she's beefin back | |
| Though it's unlikely, it might be her | |
| Visa's maxed | |
| The coke is up, so now cushion throws what's up | |
| And the Ricans got the game in the cobra clutch | |
| The D's in the | |
| Capris too close to duck | |
| But what the fuck, they can suck on some coconuts | |
| The stress is real, it drains all the sex appeal | |
| Nuttin left but jail death or a record deal | |
| Vibes is weak, hoes wanna slide and creep | |
| Even fiends got a thing for that hide and seek | |
| Stick-up kids, kidnap, switch up cribs | |
| It's still crazy how them cocksuckers hit up | |
| Big 'Pac is gone, the state of hip-hop is wrong | |
| You want more then long on to | |
| A-Z dot com [Chorus: w/ ad libs] |
| zuo qu : Cruz, Martin | |
| Just gimme the countdown | |
| Know where we goin scratched: " AZ" | |
| Uhhuh " AZ" " Streets is yours for the takin now" | |
| Feels so good " AZ" AZ: | |
| You know the come up, stack get right, put the gun up | |
| Laugh, get nice, split the blunt up | |
| Pray blue and whites don' t run up, remain humble | |
| You see the change when the | |
| Range come through | |
| When all the fame ups your game cause your name' s mumbled | |
| The chicks notice, jewels is like hypnosis | |
| It' s ferocious when broke niggaz get focused | |
| The cars come out, bottles at the bar run out | |
| You know you' re large when you in car could dodge a drought | |
| But here' s the twist up, when beef and the money mix up | |
| Skirts lift up, a few fights, few stickups | |
| Then one little thing just, leads to the next and | |
| Here come them hot boys to breathe down your neck | |
| Now you gotta pack up, flee from the rest and | |
| Just so we can go, you was free from the stress | |
| I guess it is what it is Chorus: DJ Premier scratching " Creepin on a come up" " Streets is yours for the takin now" " Creepin on a come up" " I' m from the place where hardcore is beautiful" " Creepin on a come up" " Streets is yours for the takin now" " I' m rather unique" " I' m from the place" " Brooklyn" AZ: | |
| You know the saga, who liver, who hotter | |
| Who shot at who at the | |
| Ramada I knew about beef since | |
| Bambaataa | |
| Before " Beat Street" streets was heavily deep with the riders | |
| Guns and money, some was hungry | |
| Dysfunctional families that come from junkies | |
| Jailbirds with wanted warrants up in countries | |
| Just jungle survivin like a bunch of monkies | |
| Marked dollars, | |
| D. A. NARC' s with collars | |
| Niggaz snitchin, but still got the heart to holla | |
| Hot chicks in short skirts and damn near topless | |
| Play fly and they gossip, stay high and just ride dick | |
| Can' t call it, too fresh to spoil it | |
| Two tecs to war with, grew up next to all this | |
| So understand | |
| I know from firsthand | |
| The lies of a church man, high off his first gram Chorus AZ: | |
| The jails is packed, the streets is wack | |
| It' s even worse when your workers tappin your beeper sack | |
| Wifey' s gettin feisty, she' s beefin back | |
| Though it' s unlikely, it might be her | |
| Visa' s maxed | |
| The coke is up, so now cushion throws what' s up | |
| And the Ricans got the game in the cobra clutch | |
| The D' s in the | |
| Capris too close to duck | |
| But what the fuck, they can suck on some coconuts | |
| The stress is real, it drains all the sex appeal | |
| Nuttin left but jail death or a record deal | |
| Vibes is weak, hoes wanna slide and creep | |
| Even fiends got a thing for that hide and seek | |
| Stickup kids, kidnap, switch up cribs | |
| It' s still crazy how them cocksuckers hit up | |
| Big ' Pac is gone, the state of hiphop is wrong | |
| You want more then long on to | |
| AZ dot com Chorus: w ad libs |
| zuò qǔ : Cruz, Martin | |
| Just gimme the countdown | |
| Know where we goin scratched: " AZ" | |
| Uhhuh " AZ" " Streets is yours for the takin now" | |
| Feels so good " AZ" AZ: | |
| You know the come up, stack get right, put the gun up | |
| Laugh, get nice, split the blunt up | |
| Pray blue and whites don' t run up, remain humble | |
| You see the change when the | |
| Range come through | |
| When all the fame ups your game cause your name' s mumbled | |
| The chicks notice, jewels is like hypnosis | |
| It' s ferocious when broke niggaz get focused | |
| The cars come out, bottles at the bar run out | |
| You know you' re large when you in car could dodge a drought | |
| But here' s the twist up, when beef and the money mix up | |
| Skirts lift up, a few fights, few stickups | |
| Then one little thing just, leads to the next and | |
| Here come them hot boys to breathe down your neck | |
| Now you gotta pack up, flee from the rest and | |
| Just so we can go, you was free from the stress | |
| I guess it is what it is Chorus: DJ Premier scratching " Creepin on a come up" " Streets is yours for the takin now" " Creepin on a come up" " I' m from the place where hardcore is beautiful" " Creepin on a come up" " Streets is yours for the takin now" " I' m rather unique" " I' m from the place" " Brooklyn" AZ: | |
| You know the saga, who liver, who hotter | |
| Who shot at who at the | |
| Ramada I knew about beef since | |
| Bambaataa | |
| Before " Beat Street" streets was heavily deep with the riders | |
| Guns and money, some was hungry | |
| Dysfunctional families that come from junkies | |
| Jailbirds with wanted warrants up in countries | |
| Just jungle survivin like a bunch of monkies | |
| Marked dollars, | |
| D. A. NARC' s with collars | |
| Niggaz snitchin, but still got the heart to holla | |
| Hot chicks in short skirts and damn near topless | |
| Play fly and they gossip, stay high and just ride dick | |
| Can' t call it, too fresh to spoil it | |
| Two tecs to war with, grew up next to all this | |
| So understand | |
| I know from firsthand | |
| The lies of a church man, high off his first gram Chorus AZ: | |
| The jails is packed, the streets is wack | |
| It' s even worse when your workers tappin your beeper sack | |
| Wifey' s gettin feisty, she' s beefin back | |
| Though it' s unlikely, it might be her | |
| Visa' s maxed | |
| The coke is up, so now cushion throws what' s up | |
| And the Ricans got the game in the cobra clutch | |
| The D' s in the | |
| Capris too close to duck | |
| But what the fuck, they can suck on some coconuts | |
| The stress is real, it drains all the sex appeal | |
| Nuttin left but jail death or a record deal | |
| Vibes is weak, hoes wanna slide and creep | |
| Even fiends got a thing for that hide and seek | |
| Stickup kids, kidnap, switch up cribs | |
| It' s still crazy how them cocksuckers hit up | |
| Big ' Pac is gone, the state of hiphop is wrong | |
| You want more then long on to | |
| AZ dot com Chorus: w ad libs |
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