Lyrics

[Intro] Yo E-Dubb, Yo what's the deal man? Why the Spit Squad ain't on none of ya tapes? We from Brownsville... We be tearing shit up! Yo… Watch! Let them taste this right here (Hack tu!) Taste that too And This… Yo, this is Thirstin Howl aka Slobba Ranks Ernest Flemingway with the lyrical essay And Richie Balance, Soul Saliva We reppin' Brownsville Yo, make sure they sell this in the soul shack son! Yo Russ sell mad copies of this shit! Spit spit spit! [Verse] Spit Squad, perfect aim pitchfork My brain came with a hard drive and a print-or Showed my ass more times than a Prince tour Only lied on my dick when it didn't talk Spitting thoughts at Gail force Leaving a trail of corpse Wouldn't release the mic So they nailed my hands to a cross Carrying contraband in court, my cohorts rock Lo Sport Techniques can't be forged by weaklings Speaking in codes like Morse May I balance this just a little bit more Spit with flame The temperature of a E-Dubb mixtape Soul Saliva known to leave audiences covered in flem When performing, I stay balanced as if… I had books on my head modeling Spit Squad 007 Creole version of Pierce Brosnan Nonsense, my conscience Is conquered Got more styles than Rikers Island could count beds With a bible… that comes blessed A murder accomplice Strangled With cobwebs Had to hang on the low like cows breasts Thunderstorm cloud Floor that makes the cloud stretch Reload! Ain't no party like a Brownsville party Cause in Brownsville parties get shot up Ain't no party like a Brownsville party Cause in Brownsville parties get shot the fuck up (X2) No invitation needed If ya Reeboks are leaning, ya leavin' Speak thug But need love Shoot up every party that ain't hire E-Dubb Married to the mic with a prenup 73rd precinct's Most wanted… Polo Rican Who poked holes in cement Practiced the chokehold in prekin Shot up a Bingo game this weekend Strong arm weaklings, even if we kin Check it Watch your necklace, Brownsville So dirty down-low we missed Hell by 3 exits And at Marcus Garvey, we stick you for your car keys While you're parking… Brownsville Slum Garden Not a good idea to walk through here in the evening Shit, peace oh Police don't even patrol these streets Cover up the priest, best bet To put your Holy Mary chain inside your fleece Ain't no party like a Brownsville party Cause in Brownsville parties get shot up Ain't no party like a Brownsville party Cause in Brownsville parties get shot the fuck up (x2)