We On Point Lyrics

[Chorus x2: Shake-A-Vel]
We On Point Niggas, roll it down in the hood
Ain't no rappers like this, from your neck of the wood
Representing Brooklyn, what, the livest borough, we thorough
Brooklyn, what, the livest borough, we thorough

[Casine Kelly:]
Cops harass me, chase it down, try'nna bag me
C.D. on the corners, stay cause I got a gun on me
The big boys, locking you down, these blue coats hum on
FBI, lurking around
Searching for the most wanted, whoever done it
Even if it ain't you, they frame a few
In central booking, or Brooklyn housing, Riker's Island
Crime shooting up like a job, that's why we violent
Dirty getter New York, suffer trials and tribulations
And they rock, O.P.N., O Press Nation
Be a roll model, wanna be, but I can't
Caught in the streets without a chance
(Shake-A-Vel: hear the sirens and ambulance)

Be on my pedigree, Shake-A-Velly ghetto celebrity
Been On Point since the '80's, what you telling me?
Green Hornet, they call me Hornet cause I'm Green
Anytime a nigga get murdered on the scene
It's strictly for the paper, that shit could kill, you know the deal
I represent from Bedstuy to Brownsville
Buddha Monk, O.P.N. colabo, killa connections
Getting dough from Connecticut, all the way to Texas
Flexing, taking over niggas sections
Cross my click, make a nigga toss you quick
Talk is notion, yo, son, we forcing shit
It's pass time, you said the same shit, your last rhymes
It don't impress me, I'm smoking Nestle with Capo and Pesci
305 Park, where the best be
Straight and they rocker, since a kid I've been playing with poppers
My murder one niggas do you proper
I gave rules, to the militant man
That chop your body up, disposing the parts, never see you again
Run through your weak little team, like Black Dracula
Causing a massacre, O.P.N., spectacular
We hungry for blood, my whole team is nothing but thugs
Repping the wildest set, black hoodies and gloves
Repping the wildest set, black hoodies and gloves
On Point Niggas, what, what, what
(Casine Kelly: It's that gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, shit)

[Chorus x2]

Check me in the tri-state, I erased getting weight
What ya drugs for, slaughter slow, scholar brain throbs
Scream with ya toast out, style like slang hanging
Out in the dope house, pop pipes with the mouse, in the same line
Hang glide, my ad-libs, and dive in the rip tide, that rip inside
Box like cubicles, on street corners
Mourn my last line, corner moonshine
Code name is street signs, f**k you, pay me
Cheddar, couple keys of the raw, whips, keys to the door
A broke nigga, like splitting, son, zip guns
Swiss pants, low tops, I'm a park romance, cancer
Serious with a wish, break limbs for a fifth
And can't dance, two step to the rhyme
Hustle, the Soul Train lines
Pray fast and hate quicker, cause a sucker blast
Rock 'em to to sleep, love with them fiends, hate me
Sky, I'm the future, where clouds die with Spacely
Shut up ya MC's, circle stank breathe, flirting with death
Walk on the streets, be easy, pussy
Thorough thoroughbread, congrats to the I
Swing a bat, hit a four five
Do or die, doing drive

[Buddha Monk:]
In the heat of the night, I grab mics or bust guns right
Take a life, never think about killing a nigga twice
It's the thug life, who want it, I'm nothing nice
Slug a nigga right, hit him in his hat with my twin pipes
It's all out war by G.O.D., down for seven scores
Wettin', for him of course, f**k it
Two tears, then you duck quick
My repertoire, take the money, leave you with permanent scars
I was born with nothing, and I still got nothing
But until I do, the next victim might be you
I come from streets, where holding the heat, ain't nothing sweet
Bloody ass nightmares, and no one cares
It's all good though, throw on the vest, armed with four-four
Then duck low, and make sure I'm clear of the po-po
What you don't know, I'm surely headed for the back door
My getaway, grab the money, then peel away
Check the rear mirror, looking for that red picture
But the faster we move, the image only gets dimmer
Slow the f**k down, looking for house, there's no one around
Stay quiet off a show, we all going down
Can't have that, my black steel, ready aim and bark back
Stay close, or my slugs won't tell you no
Complete the mission, stay away from the white pitching
That's the way we move in silence, a bad boy in violence

[Chorus x2]

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Record Label(s): 2008 Duck Lo Chambermusik Special Products

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