Fabolous - Keepin It Gangsta (Remix)


Keepin It Gangsta (Remix) Lyrics

D Block, true indeed
Double R, yes, true indeed
Desert Storm, true indeed
Sheek Lu' where you at?
Aah, true indeed
Haha, you know how we doin' baby?
Keepin' it gangsta, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yo

How many men could you kill? Let me count all the bullets I got
Many bricks could move, you can say 20 a block
Many niggas'll ride you could fill a football field
How much money you got? You think I signed a football deal

My nigga give me the word, I'ma kill that lane
You know major league niggas play the kidnap game
Have the kid missin' for days, listen and pray
And I'ma kill 6 of your niggas, 6 different ways

And we still got extra of rhymes, still gangsta
Try to run up on the guy, that send your legs to your mom
And we still got kilos of Coke
Ruff Ryders to the death, ride or die nigga we know the oath

That's why I'm tryin' to send this metal through your head
'Cause you got me curious, you probably look better when your dead
Nine by the spine, 5th in the Holst
Scum bag it's them D-Block boys, Daddy kissin' the ghost

Comin' through like 'The Matrix' in the A-6
Triple black leather, six-speed, with the gray stick
Give me the safe, I spit at your face
Double clip in your mug, then have S P hit it wit mase

And we just caught Burners and do me, I'll say this
Your little niggas lookin' up to me like the walls in Green Haven
Keep heat and we shank ya, rob ya and say, "Thank ya"
Now, that's keepin' it gangsta

Ya'll know who, keepin' it gangsta
We come through, keepin' it gangsta
Ya'll know how we do, keepin' it gangsta
My whole crew, keepin' it gangsta
(Yeah, okay, uh, yeah, uh, yo)

We your favorite gangstas, favorite gangstas, do better both
Before these slugs sink hitters, weighs like anchors
We don't own clean guns, all our skets is dirty
I toss bullets, New York niggas gel like Testaverde

I don't keep the scope on a ratchet
For the dope, I'm gonna catch it
Make sure the joint ain't point blank so they can't open your casket
My whole crew got glocks on 'em
In a hurry to shoot, like they put shot clocks on 'em

All that gossip we blast, better see if they possibly has
A V 12 ambulance that will get you to a hospital fast
We done came out the cages in shackles
I ain't call a pager to track you, I'm loadin' up gages to whack you

We been riding together and us back and forth
It's like puttin' Saddam Hussein and Bin Laden together
Soon as you get a crumb, they wanna bury ya
That's why I travel with a semi like Eddie in 'Coming To America'

Silencers, it sound like it's hummin' when I'm airin' ya
Won't know you hit, 'til your body numbin' in that area
The kids don't want to see the toast of Mom and Daddy
Plus we rather be roastin' Charming fatties in a toasted armor Caddy

And we come through with chains glisten and thangs spittin'
Hollow shots'll leave your brain missin'
Ghetto F A B and Paul Cain, nigga
We gettin' heaps of complaints for keepin' it gangsta

Ya'll know who, keepin' it gangsta
We come through, keepin' it gangsta
Ya'll know how we do, keepin' it gangsta
My whole crew, keepin' it gangsta

Hey yo, we represent them down ass niggas, okay
M O P, okay, rip rounds at you clown ass niggas, all day
B Day nigga get up off snooze
Don't make me put your gangsta on the 6 o'clock news

You ride in a what, what's up, don't get it fucked up
Or twisted, 'cause you'll get it twisted and fucked up
And die in that truck, be cautious when your walkin' through
Be careful who you talkin' too, comes the boom

It's the livest motherfucers of the century
You niggas is killin' me, you got to be kiddin' me, aha, aha
Ain't nobody takin' it and makin' it
Extra like dust, throwin' they ass on the record and bless it like Gus

Now, about them weak flows, keep those, we eat those
As far as meat goes, we keep those, the street knows
The M O, M O P is what's up
We in the cut, Brownsville is heatin' it up, come on

Yo, your ego, why still spit lines, that your bitch?
Play C low and spit four five's at your six
Ya'll really wanna lose your life
So, I'ma smack flames out ya
Pick ya money up and roof ya dice

Yo, you done know were we from, soldier come, soldier jump
Soldier, you been found and your whip's slumped over
With your gangsta ass, dead and your gone
Iced out, chain out, with ya brains out, head on your horn

You know who be keepin' it gangsta
With a truck full of goons that fakesta
And the Brownsville niggas from the past
That run up, put a hammer to ya gut and tell ya
"Drop it in the bag"

You gangsta, Paul, whatever
'Cause for real if I ever, ever, what?
Ever, ever catch yo ass flippin', I'ma pop a collar, boom
Woo mack and when your bitch holla

Ya'll know who, keepin' it gangsta
We come through, keepin' it gangsta
Ya'll know how we do, keepin' it gangsta
My whole crew, keepin' it gangsta

Songwriter(s): John Jackson, Ken Ifill, Ernesto Shaw
Copyright: Emi Blackwood Music Inc., Duro Music, No Question Entertainment, Emi April Music Inc., Mr. Manatti Music, J Brasco
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