B.r. Lyrics - Singles - Black Rob

Black rob, BR 

Black rob, BR 

I am about to set the record straight (The world's famous) 

It's ninety-nine, man 

Time to let them know, man 

[Black rob] 

Yo, aiyyo, yo, yo 

It's kill or be killed 

My skills leavin' them chilled on ice 

Like twice when I flash my steel 

They can't touch 

Won't touch 

Never touch 

Driving around with the toasty whip; never bust 

Puffin' dust like fiends 

I mean I want green; ya shifty 

Cop the big eight fifty with the gleam 

My team full of cut throats with enough notes to write a fuckin' book 

Take a good fucking look at these bad guys 

Stay mad fly, mad high 

In the Ford Expidie, and I don't expect to die 

On some humble shit 

I am on some rumble shit 

When it's on, you should see the shit I come through with 

If you scared, by dog, release the four by fours 

I heard the fagot-ass Don died, and he shit in his drawers 

On the streets, black; good like Allstate 

Y'all fake 

Just got paid, but fuck it, I want some more cake 

Ya faith in my hand 

Now ya nervous, man, and drive my brains quick fast at ya service 

My brother Curtis squeeze gats to celliums 

I make it where you can't escape the para bedlams 

I tell some live ya life like Puff did 

I did enough biz; ask any body 

I am rough kid 

[Chorus] 

Black Rob we are 

Black Rob uh-uh 

Black Rob we are 

Black Rob uh-uh 

Black Rob we are 

Black Rob uh-uh 

Black Rob we are 

Black Rob 

[G-Dep] 

Yo, yo 

I put a finger in the air 

For the hearing impaired 

If you're hearin' this fear 

Then your hearing - it cleared 

Man, I fuck with bod 

Got put on the job 

Don't question it to stars, I'm a put 'em in saw 

Straight gate 

I suggest you vacate 

When I shake, they feel earthquakes in eight states 

Oh, trait, off the Richter 

Drunk off the liquor 

Shot towards you, mister 

Off course, it hit you hard 

It gets hard 

I pick the card 

Any card, any problem I'm a hit your squad 

Eyes on the shaper when I twisted God 

You think you got it all together 

Get it ripped apart 

Man, you can't stand the heat 

Stay up outta the street 

Nigga turn po-lice 'cause they shot up his jeep 

I subtract like mad 

Don't make me bad 

So I want it all; fuck had 

Don't make me laugh 

By all means 

Get this money; it's all green 

It's all good 

And I wished that y'all would 

Man, fuck that, security told ya to tuck that 

Now up that, now that you see where 'lux at 

I got the game by the balls 

And I get all calls 

So if you play to much, I put the shit on pause 

[Chorus] 

BR 

BR 

Bad Boy, nigga 

Harlem Underworld 

Alumni 

The one guy 

The gun die 

Day one 

Life Stories 

Black ninety-nine 

Life Stories 

I'm here; 1999, baby, it's on 

I think I'm about to feel something here 

We here, baby 

Bad Boy 

Bad Boy