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"Brooklyn Zu" lyrics by BROOKLYN ZU
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"Brooklyn Zu"

[Intro: 12 O'Clock]
One-two, one-two
One, one, one, one...

[12 O'Clock:]
Nigga like Cheech and Chong, smoke K2 all day long
Who's the chick in them purple thongs?
Hit me off in the booth while I'm making my song
Face pretty, like Nia Long
In the streets I'm the black James Bond with two chicks on my arm
Hands in my pocket, snubbing the palm
While she, splitting the Dutch, I'm breaking the bomb'
Want a mansion with a backyard big as a farm
A ten car garage, ten foot for it long
If a dude think he leaving calm, shots to his lady, don
Need rescue like a Saint Bernard
Little kids be like "Ay, yo, 12, you a star"
Just stars in the sky, plus I live in my car
And we all smoked out, plus them windows be fogged
She a nigga gotta eat, or his stomach will starve
I kick a faggot nigga fronting, give his glory a scar

[Chorus x2: 12 O'Clock (ODB sample)]
Brooklyn Zu, Zu, Zu
Brooklyn Zu, Zu, Zu
Brooklyn Zu, Zu, Zu
Brooklyn (Brooklyn Zu!)

I clutch mics of dynamite, base my rhymes on my life
Down and dirty for my Cuffies, get some blood on my Nike
All my niggas want sunshine, peace to big Divine
My mind is so grind, and my thoughts is meal time
I'm talking hot supper, so I must apply pleasure
I spit a stormy river, I'm King Merd' the go-getter
Put my back in it, with heart to go with it
I need to eat something, plus this beat sound like some meat clap
My name ring, from New York to Cedar Raps
Peep the Zu banger, daredevil, the cliff hanger
Plus I walk like a tomahawk, talk like a tomahawk

"Brooklyn Zu! " ODB

[Shorty Shitstain:]
Yo, I wear all black, counting my shoes
To my black hat, it bes like that
All my niggas that don't know how to act
I roll with scam artists, nigga, what?
So don't need to overlook, when your shit get took
This my barbecue, and my barbecue, smell good in the hood
Put your money on the wood, make the game go good

"Brooklyn Zu! " ODB


[Buddha Monk:]
Yo, this a word from the loose sluts, a game downtown
Ice on neck, oops, a nigga gotta lay down now
Never, remember those days, cause it's still those days
Fitted hats now, Lil' Bow Wows and Jay-Z's
Different life, little Biggies, little miss, oh, who is she?
Rem' mixed with Henny, no thong, star on titties
Mr. Boing Boing, a pimp set, so give neck check
Never mind who I'm down with, the bet on who's next
Thunder gun game, riddle came, beat on brains
Switch lanes, rip games, if they short on my change
Look what you did now, rude boy, crook with a smile
Cause these fast lane niggas left a gun in my mile

[Chorus x2]

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