Bklyn Party (Foreword Vol. 2)

Lyrics

[Intro: Hype Man] Mic check. Y'all ready to have a party out there? I can't hear y'all. Is Brooklyn ready to have a party out there? Brooklyn's out there. Is Bed Stuy? Is Bed Stuy? [Verse 1: Poison Pen] Yo, we make parties Escalate into giant brawls. The bouncers Didn't check me correctly. Ergo, your Timberlands Turned into running shoes. Of course That's if your knees don't turn noodle. Come on You know me. Niggas warn their chicks, "Stand up" When they due on the M.O.P "Ante Up" when there's many rough. Shorty All moist—I think her panties stuck Peel 'em off, wring 'em out, make her fish fry Let's dance. Nope? Then you're wearing this drink tonight It's just one of them nights. Come on, son One too many fights. Come on, son You can't take the Brooklyn dudes no place. Got dime, grimy Broads with me. I speak and act drill seargant Pick a target. While she freaking him, the other one dick 'em Dumb punk, I pickpocket it [Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] [Poison Pen] It's the Brooklyn party. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas. Everybody Grab somebody. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas [Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] N.A. Rock, Myrtle Ave [?] Avenue, Surf Avenue [Verse 2: Poison Pen] Yo, when there's too much Testosterone on walls, soon to follow are The liquor that falls from the bottle, courage in A cup. Yeah, you're gonna get hurt. When Brooklyn's written All over my face, dawg, you might get murked You fall all over the place, looking like a jerk [?]. Son, I beat Sixty-four million sperm cells to get here You think I'm worried 'bout you? I'll work my ox Like a fader when I run amok. You're number one pussy Your man is close runner up. And y'all belong together [?]. See, it ain't shit For me to Gucci-pop. Y'all don't want to see my loonies shot [Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] [Poison Pen] It's the Brooklyn party. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas. Everybody Grab somebody. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas [Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] N.A. Rock, Pitkin Ave Surf Avenue, Saratoga Ave [Verse 3: Poison Pen] See these hoes? I'm trying to fuck You're trying to battle? At the end of the day Your records still suck. Who cares if you battle All night? Your songs need to be polished Hearing your wax is like rummaging through garbage They don't what they started. I'll roll with jolly stompers. You loser Brooklyn party is one case. Every different set Of niggas I run with, motherfucker We got a different handshake. We perform We slide in real early. Punk, don't act wild on records Trying to stash pot, shock collar weapons. Hours later Stronghold is strolling undetected If it pops off, we get wild and reckless. We put Ninety-nine on the guest list. We're clean-cut guys [?]. Blunted out, dreaded out Metal out. Guess who sound ghetto now? Came to the spot in my house slippers. I know what you Thinking: damn. Stepping through here with no beat Son, you got to be nice. But we always on Point. [?] and faded chicks Is hitting Powerball Lottery twice [Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] [Poison Pen] It's the Brooklyn party. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas. Everybody Grab somebody. We don't need anybody Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business Man, find your bitches before we take 'em with us They tell us the truth about y'all niggas [Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches] N.A. Rock, [?], Rockaway Ave, Pennsylvania Ave [Outro: Poison Pen] Shit. Brooklyn party. Kings County. Dawg, parties don't end 'til five in the morning. The bottle glow. The bouncers don't check us. That's what really popping, man. Ain't nothing like a Brooklyn party, man. But watch yourself 'cause we're watching you. (Emvees). Be careful. 'Cause we know that you ain't from here. When you got that stupid tourist look on your face, it's a wrap for you. So be real cool when you in the hood. We got them locked-door strip spots. Yo, we got Kennedy Fried Chicken. We got mama, we got crown. It's all the same shit, motherfuckers. Bushwick, Bed Stuy, East New York, Crown Heights, Coney Island, Sunset Park, Dark Slope, yo. I ain't got BET. I got [?]. You ain't def. Don't think it's sweet 'cause you see a brownstone and shit. Gentrification ain't totally pop off yet. Shit, the 2000s like the 80s all over again. [?] Laffy Taffy, Peanut Chews, Now and Laters, Charleston Chews, penny gums, motherfuckers. So fuck with me