Dj Clue - Cops & Robbers (feat. Lord Tariq & Muggs) lyrics

(Lord Tariq & Muggs talking) Trying to tell you man I'm going up in there Trying to dig into n***as pockets F**k that man -{Lord Tariq}- Either you be real or you be dead Hey k**er, be a k**er That's the rules to this game In the court of the law With let n***as that feel ya They know cat dealers But with some new sh**, like Clue sh** We strap for this thriller You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out co*k the mack back, blow his back out And take the back route And that's what that's about Understand? I wan't cans in hand This sh** is real, never phony Don't come short with my mo-ney I'll only tell you once Tony "Don't f**k me, don't you ever try to f**k me" If so, trust me, you outta luck B And try to sit high where them d** be Filthy rich looking broke F**k a b**h I wan't the world thust Keeping feds of my a** I gotta think fast 'Cause black man white town you know this sh** won't last We try to bumble like a** Stay low, got to hurl that cash Into the trouble blow past, that's how you do it Chorus: We got cops and robbers n***as and spicks Flashy cars, ghetto stars Moving stones and bricks It ain't over on the streets We got blocks to get So heads up, guns co*k Don't get rocked to this (2X) -{Lord Tariq}- Now if the good die young Then what the f**k that makes me? And who the f**k are you to rape me? Less then the best, bulletproof love The thugs holding it down in the decks And for the frauds I got techs Heading straight for your chest Feel me on this My word is priceless You can't pawn this I might diss drop j**els The way I cop j**els The way my nine drops flues The way my mind influes What's a n***a to do a murder Type of sh** you never heard of From jimbos to fat burger On some last long sh** I be doing this forever like that n***a Von Zeil Plus I calm sh**, I bomb sh** I had alot of Brooklyn n***as Saying "Yeah them Bronx n***as they get down" So hold your heat up, and move fast You got to keep Because Clue, Minnesota, Lord Tariq run these streets what n***a peep up, talking to the sidewalk And there's nothing to comprehend When my nine talks Chorus(2X) -{Muggs}- I peep the devil screaming BK 'Cause I rock for B.I.G Live like pop did, shells couldn't stop the kid In some rap I pack, used to be in pa**ing for crack Molka type of lid with a pa**ing for stacks Dreads call me African Black named after my medicine Street veteran with one gun k**ed eleven men It's too crazy, y'all fake tough guys with full gazi's Blue mercedes, three pounds under the blue avy Bomb crews my mind power beyond you Now I push your hair line back Do what the con do I warned you, and sworn no talking Bring the thing out Got the block surrounded like cops And shots rang out Animal instinct, blood type is therobreed Run with thero heads Leave you in another burough bed Respect my hood, like the heats do Be k to the Bronx Poor kane, Lord Tariq & Clue Chorus(2x) DJ Clue: Uh-huh DJ Clue, Professional Roc-A-Fella!