land of lords

raised in flatbush

born in brooklyn

the beast coast with us

kes ghost when flow spitters

like cobra

so live for i show the blocks no chauffeur

coast to coast

the same shit

i'm that focused

hold up

brooklyn they sat frontals how we roll up

fucking numbers

tryina bless fuck with no fuss

thrown on aroma

sour diesel

higher than my ego

cino

hold a bitch closer than my pesos

you lay ho

bank rolls be my occupation for the moment

elevated

overthrow the government

you know we on it

higher minds

fire burning

i don't care what you concern with lsd

on the dv

check the kp floating

i know you beat the steeze

golden like i'm chosen

jays leave em z

way before the berkeley center open

you hopin

i crash this plane

never man

i'm in the legendary lane

hitin janes like tarzan

hitting janes like tarzan

fuck you and your men

pick it up

where my brother left it off

purple drunk

sour diesel be the feud for all my brooklyn lords

brooklyn lords

there's no control

you niggas lame

i'm going hard

living large

watch out for coppers

you know they makin noise

flappers grow

rate the right shots as we ride there by our boys

jaja knows

been out the majors since like snotty nose

switching flows like a brooklyn nigga on these folks too dope

i count my pesos

i let my brain girl

watch out for my endo cause they tailin halos

know they hate though

it's 'cause we clean on the block

living dreams on the clock

keep the weed round my team

so we lean in the spot

the beast coast we better than most folks

ain't no hope for niggas that be guessin our brain growth

you dead smoked

like my urban chateau blunt to the sun child

can't walk a mile in my shoes cause we run that brookline

you get it? we bringing change

motherfuck your game fame

i don't need your damn approval

gotta clear my name

you niggas fucking shooters

we the matches of this game

so take a seat nigga

and let a god teach nigga

don't wanna pro preach with you

but one of us soul killers

other than cho runner don't be sendin no sinners

no sinners

no frienemies

spray 'em

they all enemies

i grip your life

don't get the grip

just fist fight

knuckle up

fuck happen and scrapin

niggas ain't tough enough for the bus to slump

then show a brother love

that's why you can't fuck with us

ah

i remember them hoop dreams

thought i was the one like hakeem

jump shot me

till a nigga hit a pot steam

then a nigga drop rock like a fiend

that 2 train

till the last stop that man block

man shots

10 pun the way to the buck puck with a blood clot

10 boys

world's fair

zombies

pro era

asap

new york

new york

that's where it's at

where it's at

we the new new york

better protect your neck

when you're looking at the guard

take another step back

cause we soarin

while niggas borin

see me tourin

a nigga been chosen to elevate most men

til we go deep

and caught my cedar

that's of course

cause my bitch she wants a horse

but i mind just say for fuck it and go cop that shit got porsche

my mama want a crib

i tell my motherfucker called

you done raise a fucking deamon child of riddim and the corn

your corpse is paid

so we just squeeze lemonades

flatbush brooklyn

where the fuck i'm gonna stay?

and i be chillin with my villains climbin on the fuckin milli

and blowin on the loud till a nigga touch the ceiling aha

that's the end of the song

and nigga know me can do no wrong

body and tracks

division the back of the cadillac

now you know all this shit