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I Got U
Styles P
,
Bristal
,
DJ Kay Slay
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Bris-style (yeah)
S-P (uh-huh)
I got you (I know)
Brooklyn in more ways than you can imagine
Yo I'm major like the league since a teen I supplied the fiends
Crack, coke, dope, no consignment see
Talking bout the music, please don't confuse it
So good, people all ages wanna use it
White boys pulling out nooses
On they own self, use it, yeah use it
I'm tired of critics fussing, rather be in Costa Rica
On the beach, butt naked bout to skeet something
Brooklyn, we got the need for nothing
Go 'head, send shots through your fleece or something for fronting
Bris been push CL6's
Hit the block cause I got 37 longs, gone like Knickses
Want a hot 16? I can give you a verse
Or got a nine that spit hot 16's
Fronting like I got a high school team
I'm on the strip spitting verses
This how I live my life
Bet a hundred thou, you won't roll six on them dice
If you want, you can raise the price
Before that, all I did in the hood was heist, a sucka
Covered with a pist-al, bout to make ish wild
With my nigga Bris-style (where you at Bris?)
Taking off everything, the chain and the coat
And the watch and the heavy ring (let's go)
Laying in the hospital
Pliers on top of you, and I'm bout to choppa you (what up?)
Bucking at your enemies
Sucking on Hennessy, fucking with the Kennedys
Yo it's Bris-style and Styles P
In the crib we keep O's in the front and the back like a Audi
Don't come around me
Giving fake daps, fake hugs, fake love
I'ma show you a real thug
I'ma put em in they place
Take it back to '83, start punching niggas in the face
Now they looking for God like Ma$e
When they worship the devil
Run and get your metal, you don't own no iron
Don't come with a aluminum bat, I put two in them cats
I'm familiar with the white whale Martel
Not Jordan cause he fell, get knocked, Carmel
Make bail, but see, Bris never tell
Nigga I'll fight your pops, not for props
You the type to run in the crib and call the cops
Hops imitator, I'm like a sinner, take it to the hole
Penetrator, don't believe in hating the haters
I'ma find em, kill em, peel em
Walk on em like gators, then extort your neighbors
Bris-style, Styles P, LOX and Kennedys, don't need a fuckin favor
Covered with a pist-al, bout to make ish wild
With my nigga Bris-style (where you at Bris?)
Taking off everything, the chain and the coat
And the watch and the heavy ring (let's go)
Laying in the hospital
Pliers on top of you, and I'm bout to choppa you (what up?)
Bucking at your enemies
Sucking on Hennessy, fucking with the Kennedys
Covered with a pist-al, bout to make ish wild
With my nigga Bris-style (where you at Bris?)
Taking off everything, the chain and the coat
And the watch and the heavy ring (let's go)
Laying in the hospital
Pliers on top of you, and I'm bout to choppa you (what up?)
Bucking at your enemies
Sucking on Hennessy, fucking with the Kennedys
From Brooklyn to Yonkers
To wherever the fuck we at
The alley, industry, party, club, hood
I got you, always remember that
You might be aight
But you ain't never safe, cause I got you
No telling what I'ma get you with neither
Something big, seventeen or more
You know, I got you
Blaow!
We out Bris
One
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