Lyrics Ante Up (Robbin Hoodz Theory) - M.O.P.
Take
minks
off!
Take
things
off!
Take
chains
off!
Take
rings
off!
Braclets
is
yapped,
Fame
came
off!
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,
(bound!)
now,
(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
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!
Huh!
Ante
Up!
Oh!
Yap
that
fool!
Oh!
Ante
Up!
Oh!
Kidnap
that
fool!
Get
him
(get
him)
get
him!
Hit
him
(hit
him)
hit
him!
Yap
him!
(Zap
him!)
Yap
him!
(Zap
him!)
Them
thugs
you
know,
aint
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
pis-tal
money
Catch
them
fools
at
the
bar
for
that
Cristal
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
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!
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
L-I
L-F
A-M,
(M!)
E,
(E!)
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
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
Til
I
was
tired
of
stress,
yes
lord!
Ha,
ha,
ha,
ha,
ha,
ha,
ha,
ha...
The
fuck,
the
fuck,
the
fuck...
Nigga!
What
the
fuck,
what
the
fuck,
what
the
fuck...
Ha,
what
First
Family,
First
Family...
Brooklyn...
Yeah!
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