Bricks Two Lyrics - Malpractice - Redman

Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man 

Just rhymin over here man 

Hey go 'head, go get drunk nigga 

Ayyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga 

Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah 

It's Brick City dawgs over here 

We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don. 

(D-Don) 

It's bone-afficial my nizzle 

D-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you 

Oh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+ 

I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy 

I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully 

I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly 

I'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets 

And I'm more underground than your, basement concrete 

Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth 

Still, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief 

I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two 

Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew 

I'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven 

A project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven 

I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!) 

I'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on 

I still got money buried in my back yard 

I'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don 

My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod 

And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song 

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(Pacewon) 

Yo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars 

Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large 

like they cut, and you got the power to heal scars 

Never down cause the underground crown is still large 

See I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die 

If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie 

I'm all real, the one, the raw deal 

Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill' 

What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill 

Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills 

Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways 

When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days 

Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz' 

Rather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades 

'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne 

I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game 

Ridin through your block with six new chains on 

Pullin over droppin H-bombs 

No doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station 

Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin 

Photos 

(- 2X w/ minor variations) 

Jersey that's whassup (whassup yo?) 

You heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed) 

Rock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?) 

Jersey that's whassup, Brick City 

(Roz) 

Fuckin with me is a close call out of my crew 

Don't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars 

Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats 

Blast tracks like what the fuck was that? 

Roz spit rawness 

State to state, hood streets and block corners 

Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us 

Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last 

But I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass 

Back up and give the R room 

Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms 

In my city they don't pop they collar 

Cats that do, get shot drop and holla 

I'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S 

And my, squad is hot, any beef they bless 

Any, squad that test gon' meet they death 

Ask yourself, do you really need that stress? 

(Shooga Bear) 

Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd 

There's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed 

Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound 

So whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now 

Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split 

Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click 

Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear 

With razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears 

Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser 

Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers 

Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties 

Still when I spit I flip like Spock sent me 

And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed 

But if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast 

Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks 

And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit 

(Double O) 

I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate 

I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants 

That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over 

You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor 

It's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin 

It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin 

Talkin that killer shit like you blood raw 

And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car 

Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets 

Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek 

I'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss 

My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc 

It be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods 

It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved 

I did ery'thang from robberies to dope 

And y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke 

Playin like kids, I think you want me to spank you 

Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle 

And if you niggaz don't like what I say 

I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day 

(Redman) 

Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga 

Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor 

Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga 

Yo Brick City muh'fucka.