Fashion Victims

Lyrics

[ INTRO ] [ There may be trouble ahead ] Yo home boy, what the fuck you think you doing coming the fuck back in the train with the freshman dip Yo on the strempf run in the fuckin spot buildin in the troop suit Take off the Vasco two-tones and the BVD Give me the fucking silver chain with the Chinese letters Up the MCM trenchcoat Yo I ain't fucking playing witchu motherfucker! [ VERSE 1 ] There's a victim born every minute, you've reached your limit Your Lee suit's my size and I'm about to get in it It's the stick-you-up specialist, the bad spirit that will possess your Latigo like the fuckin Exorcist Run your shit Don't flash the name brand, the game plan have the gun and the coat hanger in the same hand And fasten the top buttons, I don't want the Shams to Barren to get dirty once the guns start [click, gunshot noise] Come with the time fuck up the world its mine It's takin your sherm a time what you earn is mine Set the bait with a bitch to score and trap a man And snag him for his custom made Valore dapper dan The thieving beast who needs the heat to leave the strap Through your jacket with the graffiti piece on the back With a hat to match, don't scratch the glass When you drop the gazelles will run like hell for an officer to tell I don't wanna have to harm ya You're better off handing over that color grey leather bomber It's the end of the playoffs, the street's win Visitors zero Me? A brand new sheep skin The zip gun's pointed directly at your mango demanding you lose touch with cream fuzzy Kangol I robbed one fool for his chain and took his weed bag Not before I played him for his Space Invader ski hat The stick up kid out to snatch your wardrobe Having Fashion Avenue looking like a warzone And when they lay me to rest in peace I'll be in the afterlife taking ghosts for their white sheets [BRIDGE] Meanwhile in the new millennium the robberies continue... [ VERSE 2 ] Trust me I'll be long gone before the law's long arm can catch up with the bastard that got you for your Sean John I get my snatch on and trap you for your Phat Farm Thief you for your Revis suit and put it into a rap song Shouldn't have flinched over your fitted it got you layed out Matter of fact take your throwback back, this shit is played out Dawg I don't care let's not compare who got the hardest stare The Glock is there for you to dropoff your Rocawear, ha! It's crazy ignorant how I prey the innocent all for a pair of kicks and some Shady Limited A chick could get it, I don't give a fuck, Ante-Up For my baby mama Bitch give the baby fat panties up Tribal gear my sticky hands are stuck to that I keep your Fubu and your Echo You can keep the Trucker Hat The thief in the night that will swipe these punks For a brand new pair of green Heineken Nike Dunks I take a five finger discount for your oversized white shirt Hijack with a Mac so why fight over your Iceberg In an Uncle Howie hoodie I'mma blast the opponent Until Russel Simmons hires me as a fashion consultant [OUTRO] Brooklyn to the robbery And if you got robbed you got stuck Brooklyn keeps on takin it Robbed a motherfucker Stick 'em hahaha stick 'em