CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : HB Freestyle (Rzo Munna x Pumpz x Soze)
Joey Clipstar, HB Freestyles
Now this ones been most requested for a long time, so its only right we sorted it out
9th Street, HB Freestyles
Brigades, Brigades, Brigades
I ain't gon do too much talking
You know the faces, so let's get into it
Mum says "boy, you're too shallow", I don't deep what I'm told
No breakfast, just dinners, when I'm in the kitchen scrapping bowls
Opps gets hit, scripts get flipped
Flipped like a old school phone
And this Trap house here ain't hot, this T here's Unknown
Pull up and have man shifting, do dirt on my own, or a**istance
Man get popped like blisters
Man behave like sisters; some b*t*hes
I'm in OT in a village, not bista, and these scripts get flipped like Rizla
Beef on sight, like I could never let that slide
Four-man when he we go on a glide
Two straps in a back, one pa**enger side
Can't say that the beef ain't fried
None of my close ones cried
They hear .44, wid' the 16, same time my Lil' n***as got life
And I pree'd on the opp boys twice
They can't talk bout K's on the 9, man get round dere on bikes
They got round and tried, but the opps can't talk about slides
I juss sent a postal out, man I pray that my broski's nice
Its still free the guys, and bro-bro mash still on rides
Them man good, they can't talk to me about road, they shoulda stayed in school
And anyone that I see in the hood thats shotting, I'm robbing, especially if we ain't cool
Who's is who, I dont play wid' no random youtes, this is no 8 Ball Pool
I took trips, that's me and Paul, in the whip hopping that I don't get pulled
Who's that's, feds in the opposite junction, no eye contact, that's all hot
Opps can't talk about ride-outs, I ride out and they riding off
Like sh*t then, you shoulda seen the way bro try write him off
Ive got hitmen, and they dont take a price for bro to light em up
Real bad boy shooters, like Booka
3, .44, 9th street Freddy Kruger
Sticking up rap boys, sticking up shooters
The hoopties full up?
I tell man move up
See an opp any where, man plug that, man does that
See an opp, and cut that, man love that
No chill, like f**k that
Man f**k dat, if your gyal won't bruck dat
Sh*t's all mad up
Bro's still on the wing like Salah
Man I've been so low, come back up
From thirteen, I got my cash up
Don't complain, comply
Chop that shotgun right
Pull up, we letting it rain
Opp block, six-man deep like Pain
Gun kick back like Tekken
But still flip shank; my favourite weapon
If I can't blast, I'll wet him, no half heart, I can't left him
If this bruckback got lead in, then I'm defo' dishing out shellings
Tell the opp boys get bread in
If bro down and out, I can't let him
Enough said
9th Street, HB Freestyles, Joey Clipstar
Let us know who should we get next
I don't think none of you are gon' do that so
9th Street the team, b*t*h
Try your best
Now this ones been most requested for a long time, so its only right we sorted it out
9th Street, HB Freestyles
Brigades, Brigades, Brigades
I ain't gon do too much talking
You know the faces, so let's get into it
Mum says "boy, you're too shallow", I don't deep what I'm told
No breakfast, just dinners, when I'm in the kitchen scrapping bowls
Opps gets hit, scripts get flipped
Flipped like a old school phone
And this Trap house here ain't hot, this T here's Unknown
Pull up and have man shifting, do dirt on my own, or a**istance
Man get popped like blisters
Man behave like sisters; some b*t*hes
I'm in OT in a village, not bista, and these scripts get flipped like Rizla
Beef on sight, like I could never let that slide
Four-man when he we go on a glide
Two straps in a back, one pa**enger side
Can't say that the beef ain't fried
None of my close ones cried
They hear .44, wid' the 16, same time my Lil' n***as got life
And I pree'd on the opp boys twice
They can't talk bout K's on the 9, man get round dere on bikes
They got round and tried, but the opps can't talk about slides
I juss sent a postal out, man I pray that my broski's nice
Its still free the guys, and bro-bro mash still on rides
Them man good, they can't talk to me about road, they shoulda stayed in school
And anyone that I see in the hood thats shotting, I'm robbing, especially if we ain't cool
Who's is who, I dont play wid' no random youtes, this is no 8 Ball Pool
I took trips, that's me and Paul, in the whip hopping that I don't get pulled
Who's that's, feds in the opposite junction, no eye contact, that's all hot
Opps can't talk about ride-outs, I ride out and they riding off
Like sh*t then, you shoulda seen the way bro try write him off
Ive got hitmen, and they dont take a price for bro to light em up
Real bad boy shooters, like Booka
3, .44, 9th street Freddy Kruger
Sticking up rap boys, sticking up shooters
The hoopties full up?
I tell man move up
See an opp any where, man plug that, man does that
See an opp, and cut that, man love that
No chill, like f**k that
Man f**k dat, if your gyal won't bruck dat
Sh*t's all mad up
Bro's still on the wing like Salah
Man I've been so low, come back up
From thirteen, I got my cash up
Don't complain, comply
Chop that shotgun right
Pull up, we letting it rain
Opp block, six-man deep like Pain
Gun kick back like Tekken
But still flip shank; my favourite weapon
If I can't blast, I'll wet him, no half heart, I can't left him
If this bruckback got lead in, then I'm defo' dishing out shellings
Tell the opp boys get bread in
If bro down and out, I can't let him
Enough said
9th Street, HB Freestyles, Joey Clipstar
Let us know who should we get next
I don't think none of you are gon' do that so
9th Street the team, b*t*h
Try your best
