Текст песни Brooklyn Style...Laid Out - Big Daddy Kane feat. Big Scoob
Come
on
y′all
and
feel
the
groove
Get
on
down
and
make
your
move
Welcome
to
the
funkiest
Brooklyn
style,
laid
out
like
this
Come
on
y'all
and
feel
the
groove
Get
on
down
and
make
your
move
Welcome
to
the
funkiest
Brooklyn
style,
laid
out
like
this
I
kicks
the
flavor
good,
to
represent
the
neighborhood
Where
I
come
from,
and
that′s
the
place
of
Brooklyn
Where
the
grimies
are
born
and
bred
And
bullets
are
like
eyeballs,
two
to
the
head
Well
is
it
Brownsville?
Time
to
represent
for
the
map
Where
the
peeps
smoke
blunts
and
like
to
wear
mad
gold
caps
The
party
addict
about
to
explode
From
the
1-1-2,
the
double-3
ill
zip
code
Parlayin'
on
the
corner,
drinkin'
40′s
shootin′
Cee-Lo
It's
a
Brooklyn
thing,
aight?
You
know
our
steelo
And
for
those
who
just
don′t
know
how
it
go
Play
like
a
substitute
teacher
and
act
like
you
know
So
yo,
who
wanna
set
it?
You
better
kick
your
best
G
You
and
your
whole
entourage
couldn't
test
me
I
represent
for
the
fo′
main
And
if
you're
not
a
booty
bandit,
then
niggaz
can′t
hang
Come
on
y'all
and
feel
the
groove
Get
on
down
and
make
your
move
Welcome
to
the
funkiest
Brooklyn
style,
laid
out
like
this
Now,
let's
get
straight
down
to
the
point
I
represent
for
this
Brooklyn
joint
Baby
pah,
where
we′re
takin′
it
to
Makin'
a
few
dollars
don′t
mean
you
gotta
forget
Where
you
come
from
and
try
to
be
someone
That
you're
really
not
and
front
with
what
you
got
You′re
gonna
be
looked
at
as
a
black
man
still
so
keep
it
real
What
type
of
mission
can
I
say
you
on?
Because
you
musta
done
changed
to
some
Grey
Poupon,
heh
I'm
really
happy
to
see
you
blew
up
But
always
remember
my
man
you
grew
up
In
the
PJ′s
all
your
life,
in
a
broken
home
Well
alright
now
Up
in
the
PJ's
all
your
life,
keepin'
it
strong,
what
I
be
the
Louis
Ave
livin′,
live
long
lastin′
lover
Bonafied
black
brother,
word
to
the
mother
Skilled
at
trades
at
hand
with
those
who
made
The
man
with
support
and
always
stayed
a
fan
My
dialectic
style
is
perfected
In
ways
you
can't
imagine
rap
bein′
accepted
Funk'll
slam
like
a
doper
jam,
pops
I′m
takin
mine
like
taxes
with
Uncle
Sam
So
check
out
the
Asiatic
type
of
flow
Like
water
in
the
Nile,
but
it's
Brooklyn
style
Come
on
y′all
and
feel
the
groove
Get
on
down
and
make
your
move
Welcome
to
the
funkiest
Brooklyn
style,
laid
out
like
this
Yo,
this
is
Big
Scoob,
no
practice
I'm
flippin'
on
niggaz
like
little
kids
on
that
mattress
You
know
my
style,
Baby
Pah
from
the
PJ′s
My
lyrics
so
dope,
they
too
fat
for
local
DJ′s
So
hear
me
out,
no
doubt,
no
need
for
screamin'
My
boys
in
the
back,
clockin′
your
jewels,
and
they
schemin'
Why
did
they
step
to
me,
I
hit
′em,
bow,
bu-dow
Knocked
out
his
fronts
'cause
the
kid
was
mad
fragile
No
need
for
beef
chief
I′m
rollin'
mad
deep
So
pick
up
your
teeth,
I
got
him
shakin'
like
a
leaf
Not
tryin′
to
scare
you,
I
just
wanna
aware
you
I
bet
you
won′t
even
look
at
my
face
(What,
what,
what)
I
dare
you
Yo
nigga
please,
yo
I'm
nice
with
these
While
you′re
guardin'
your
grill
I′ll
be
beatin'
up
your
kidneys
Me
and
my
boys
with
the
fat
tec
9′s
With
my
joint
cocked
back,
in
case
a
punk
tried
to
take
mines
Where
I'm
from
there's
no
need
for
hesitation
We
cock
and
squeeze,
now
where′s
the
doctor
for
this
patient?
He′s
drippin'
blood
and
now
he′s
down
to
his
last
breath
But
he
won't
make
it,
cause
he
knows
that
my
joint
is
def
The
ill,
type
of
Brooklyn
artist
Who
rocks
the
har-dest,
regard-less
Who
you
know
and
where
you′re
from
I
pull
your
file
(How?)
Brooklyn
style
Come
on
y'all
and
feel
the
groove
Get
on
down
and
make
your
move
Welcome
to
the
funkiest
Brooklyn
style,
laid
out
like
this
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