Louder

Album cover art for "Louder" by Big Noyd & Prodigy

Big Noyd & Prodigy - Rap, Hip-Hop

Louder

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Duration: 3:23

Lyrics

[Intro: Big Noyd] You out there? Louder Ayo, check it out, yo, yo Well, clap your hands to what he's doing Ayo [Verse 1: Big Noyd] You know I'm makin' sales on the hill, slingin' the fish scale The motherfuckin' cracks and shit In a ghetto state of mind Niggas slingin' dime, doing three to nines In the grind that I'm tryna flip And change my ways, but not my techniques Holdin' TECs when I walk, TECs when I talk, TECs when I sleep If you don't keep heat sparkin', you a dead man walkin' Prepare for war, ready to sleep, 'cause see, me More ready to squeeze, you be more ready to breeze And I'm real, and you just a stuntin' MC When we say you know how we roll, we talkin' how deep Whеn we say you know what we hold, we talkin' 'bout hеat And we keep hundreds and guns 'cause talk is cheap Hey holmes, you better run when you see me in the street Try to diss me in your rhymes, I'ma warn you one time Then out come them .9s, nigga (Bow, bow) [Chorus: Prodigy] You out there? Louder Louder Well, clap your hands to what he's doing You out there? Louder Louder Yo, check it out, ayo, it's like Well, clap your hands to what he's doing [Verse 2: Prodigy] I heard he s'posed to be known for bustin' his gun, him and his man Out in South Jamaica BKA the desert land Goin' at P, you finished, man You's a flea, a peasant ass nigga beneath me Our shots connect with bodies, ask your chiefs You better run to your boss about me We kill niggas like you and fuck the police I built niggas like you, you manufactured by me Studied every Mobb song, every CD Now you tryna grow up and squeeze your foot in my Louis? My Ballys, my Timbs with the Gucci My two-shot with the red beam shoot moolies You niggas goin' at me, get your teeth loose here Your chain get popped and all you niggas run from my bullets A Mobb nigga to the fullest, no bullshit Catch niggas havin' they fun and we ruin it [Chorus] You out there? Louder Louder Well, clap your hands to what he's doing You out there? Well, clap your hands to what he's doing [Verse 3: Big Noyd] And when I'm spittin' that fire, I know it burns you up, nigga When they play your song, nobody turn you up, nigga Your rap style sucks and your style is chump, boy Y'all niggas ain't ready, you don't want it with Big Noyd Homeboy, don't lie, you never handled no guns Never sold no drugs, you was never no one No scars, no bars, no pumpin', no buckin' The frontin', homeboy, you never touched no one You don't know what thuggin' is from the womb to the tomb What you know about visits, nigga, boofin' balloons? Or on the street with the smack and the spoon Slingin' dope from 12 mid to 12 noon in the streets with the goons What you know about it, dunn? All my niggas on the run All my niggas in the grave, and most up in the cage And how they come home rockin' the specs with the waves Or thuggin' with the Timbos rockin' the braids You down, kid, this right here for all ages Cop the mixtapes 'cause radio, they scared to play this We too thug for them so we say, "Fuck the haters" Then throw it up for my niggas comin' with the gators My ladies with the Chanel ridin' for the players Believe me, man, nothing's gonna stop us from gettin' paper It's a wrap for it, man, just adapt to it We got it mastered, for every track, we write classics, nigga

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Credits

Writers
  • Big Noyd
  • Prodigy
  • The Alchemist