Yankee - The Brand lyrics

[Verse 1: Young Lito] Yo Yankee, this verse‘s gonna cost you ten bands, you heard? Lito (Rap, one take) I'm a pretty boy but I pop lead And my guap spread, watch you wanna cop? I could shop ‘till I drop dead Birds flock to me, ‘cause they know I've got bread Money ain't a thing, I blow green like a pothead Cops said they're gonna take me out the game They're tripping, you won't catch me slipping if it rain It's sickening, haters wanna tear me out the frame If I get wash, pistols coming out like stains I pick it up and aim, and blow it out your brain When it's beef we don't play, it's like we forfeited the game Man, this is a shame how they want my head These hoes want the love but I want the head These n***as give me hugs but I want the bread Any means necessary, like Malcolm said If it's a problem, my shooters ‘ll snipe him dead I used to shoot for them bucks, like Michael Redd I lay back instead, I'd rather stack the bills Nothing but bricks, I know how Shaq feels Flow sick, if you ain't thinkin' I'm that ill It's a slogan for my bars, you heard that crack k**s I'm that real, let a n***a act trill Give me the steel, I bet I'm ‘a peel like Advil Y'all n***as chill, y'all better stay cool ‘Cause the four-five equal the Chanel Nine News (boom!) (Motherf**er!) [Verse 2: Avon Blocksdale] I'm America's nightmare Coke stay stashed in the Nik' Airs Or ball tucked Ruger ‘cause a n***a don't fight fair Short with words, I don't converse with herbs n***as talking like they' ill, knowing they came for them birds Boy, y'all came for the bricks? I'm talking chopping up birds Rockin' up in the spots, cops hopping the curb Lethal shot to his top, only movement his nerves I'm from a block, [crystals pop, half corpses with words?] Paranoia keep me strapped, mental when I [blat?] Got a nine, got a deuce, both would put you on your back [I be handing lil' n***as…?] One down, but they don't even got the little gats Want peace face to face, talkin' violence in they rap Oh, you nasty on your beats? Slow down rapper I'm a master in the hood, you know that rapper This shot'll hit your head – “blaow” – hold that rapper Avon Blocksdale, I ain't no rapper (Motherf**ers) [Verse 3: King Sevin] Turn me up a little bit (Yankee, I see you n***a) Uh Seat back, smoke blowin' out the Yukon With a Connecticut mami, she goes to UConn She from the Grove, I'm just trying to get my groove on After I hit, gettin' clipped like a coupon Used to ignore me, but now they all on me Swear it ain't a time I speak to these b**hes they ain't horny When it was time to get to the money, they ain't call me Now they're calling for a feature, but now they can't afford me It's all corny, livin' off of what they used to be A bunch of old n***as trying to get their youth from me But now I'm up, it's about what you can do for me ‘Cause I was paid back when I was duckin' truancy Boy in the hood, been a menace to my society We're all trying to be paid in full, here's the irony It's all a rivalry, my friends don't mix well It's like Crisco in a wish' well But I just want all my n***as with me when I touch this first milli But most of my n***as state prop', I ain't talkin' Philly I spit crack, the soul of an old shooter You're just a young gunner, learning how to maneuver There's no leeway on this freeway Itchy trigger fingers get scratched like the sweepstakes You never know That's why we keep the metal close And we ain't afraid to make the whistle like kettle smoke King Sevin [Outro: Troy Ave] They kettle smoke as a motherf**er You n***as, you don't want no smoke I ain't even gotta rap, my n***as got it BSB records, the brand The people's brand That brand you can trust and believe in Dope boy Troy Got eight thousand dollars in my pocket for no motherf**ing reason And I'm about to go pick up more money I ain't even gonna say no more [What you say when you got?] eight thousand in your pocket for no reason You ain't gotta say no more Feel like putting bars in this b**h so bad This be hard, right? ‘Ey you n***as don't loop this sh** and try to put your verses on it This BSB sh** Uh, duh-duh, d-duh d-duh, dun-duh, d-dun d-duh Aight, we can let it breathe