Cops & Robbers Lyrics
| Song | Cops & Robbers |
| Artist | DJ Clue? |
| Album | The Professional |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Best, Creatore, Hamilton ... | |
| (lord tariq & muggs talking) | |
| Trying to tell you man | |
| I'm going up in there | |
| Trying to dig into niggas pockets | |
| Fuck that man | |
| -{lord tariq}- | |
| Either you be real or you be dead | |
| Hey killer, be a killer | |
| That's the rules to this game | |
| In the court of the law | |
| With let niggas that feel ya | |
| They know cat dealers | |
| But with some new shit, like clue shit | |
| We strap for this thriller | |
| You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out | |
| Cock 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 shit is real, never phony | |
| Don't come short with my mo-ney | |
| I'll only tell you once tony | |
| "don't fuck me, don't you ever try to fuck me" | |
| If so, trust me, you outta luck b | |
| And try to sit high where them drugs be | |
| Filthy rich looking broke | |
| Fuck a bitch i wan't the world thust | |
| Keeping feds of my ass | |
| I gotta think fast | |
| 'cause black man white town you know this shit won't last | |
| We try to bumble like ass | |
| Stay low, got to hurl that cash | |
| Into the trouble blow past, that's how you do it | |
| Chorus: | |
| We got cops and robbers | |
| Niggas 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 cock | |
| Don't get rocked to this | |
| (2x) | |
| -{lord tariq}- | |
| Now if the good die young | |
| Then what the fuck that makes me? | |
| And who the fuck 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 jewels | |
| The way i cop jewels | |
| The way my nine drops flues | |
| The way my mind influes | |
| What's a nigga to do a murder | |
| Type of shit you never heard of | |
| >from jimbos to fat burger | |
| On some last long shit | |
| I be doing this forever like that nigga von zeil | |
| Plus i calm shit, i bomb shit | |
| I had alot of brooklyn niggas | |
| Saying "yeah them bronx niggas they get down" | |
| So hold your heat up, and move fast | |
| You got to keep | |
| Because clue, minnesota, lord tariq run these streets what | |
| Nigga 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 passing for crack | |
| Molka type of lid with a passing for stacks | |
| Dreads call me african black named after my medicine | |
| Street veteran with one gun | |
| Killed 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! |
| zuo ci : Best, Creatore, Hamilton ... | |
| lord tariq muggs talking | |
| Trying to tell you man | |
| I' m going up in there | |
| Trying to dig into niggas pockets | |
| Fuck that man | |
| lord tariq | |
| Either you be real or you be dead | |
| Hey killer, be a killer | |
| That' s the rules to this game | |
| In the court of the law | |
| With let niggas that feel ya | |
| They know cat dealers | |
| But with some new shit, like clue shit | |
| We strap for this thriller | |
| You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out | |
| Cock 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 shit is real, never phony | |
| Don' t come short with my money | |
| I' ll only tell you once tony | |
| " don' t fuck me, don' t you ever try to fuck me" | |
| If so, trust me, you outta luck b | |
| And try to sit high where them drugs be | |
| Filthy rich looking broke | |
| Fuck a bitch i wan' t the world thust | |
| Keeping feds of my ass | |
| I gotta think fast | |
| ' cause black man white town you know this shit won' t last | |
| We try to bumble like ass | |
| Stay low, got to hurl that cash | |
| Into the trouble blow past, that' s how you do it | |
| Chorus: | |
| We got cops and robbers | |
| Niggas 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 cock | |
| Don' t get rocked to this | |
| 2x | |
| lord tariq | |
| Now if the good die young | |
| Then what the fuck that makes me? | |
| And who the fuck 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 jewels | |
| The way i cop jewels | |
| The way my nine drops flues | |
| The way my mind influes | |
| What' s a nigga to do a murder | |
| Type of shit you never heard of | |
| from jimbos to fat burger | |
| On some last long shit | |
| I be doing this forever like that nigga von zeil | |
| Plus i calm shit, i bomb shit | |
| I had alot of brooklyn niggas | |
| Saying " yeah them bronx niggas they get down" | |
| So hold your heat up, and move fast | |
| You got to keep | |
| Because clue, minnesota, lord tariq run these streets what | |
| Nigga 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 passing for crack | |
| Molka type of lid with a passing for stacks | |
| Dreads call me african black named after my medicine | |
| Street veteran with one gun | |
| Killed 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: | |
| Uhhuh | |
| Dj clue, professional | |
| Rocafella! |
| zuò cí : Best, Creatore, Hamilton ... | |
| lord tariq muggs talking | |
| Trying to tell you man | |
| I' m going up in there | |
| Trying to dig into niggas pockets | |
| Fuck that man | |
| lord tariq | |
| Either you be real or you be dead | |
| Hey killer, be a killer | |
| That' s the rules to this game | |
| In the court of the law | |
| With let niggas that feel ya | |
| They know cat dealers | |
| But with some new shit, like clue shit | |
| We strap for this thriller | |
| You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out | |
| Cock 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 shit is real, never phony | |
| Don' t come short with my money | |
| I' ll only tell you once tony | |
| " don' t fuck me, don' t you ever try to fuck me" | |
| If so, trust me, you outta luck b | |
| And try to sit high where them drugs be | |
| Filthy rich looking broke | |
| Fuck a bitch i wan' t the world thust | |
| Keeping feds of my ass | |
| I gotta think fast | |
| ' cause black man white town you know this shit won' t last | |
| We try to bumble like ass | |
| Stay low, got to hurl that cash | |
| Into the trouble blow past, that' s how you do it | |
| Chorus: | |
| We got cops and robbers | |
| Niggas 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 cock | |
| Don' t get rocked to this | |
| 2x | |
| lord tariq | |
| Now if the good die young | |
| Then what the fuck that makes me? | |
| And who the fuck 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 jewels | |
| The way i cop jewels | |
| The way my nine drops flues | |
| The way my mind influes | |
| What' s a nigga to do a murder | |
| Type of shit you never heard of | |
| from jimbos to fat burger | |
| On some last long shit | |
| I be doing this forever like that nigga von zeil | |
| Plus i calm shit, i bomb shit | |
| I had alot of brooklyn niggas | |
| Saying " yeah them bronx niggas they get down" | |
| So hold your heat up, and move fast | |
| You got to keep | |
| Because clue, minnesota, lord tariq run these streets what | |
| Nigga 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 passing for crack | |
| Molka type of lid with a passing for stacks | |
| Dreads call me african black named after my medicine | |
| Street veteran with one gun | |
| Killed 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: | |
| Uhhuh | |
| Dj clue, professional | |
| Rocafella! |
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