Kanye.. And we have.. M-O-B-B, Yo, Yeah
|
C'mon drop that, Yeah, Uh-huh
|
Just throw your hands in the air
|
Yeah.. Yo
|
|
[Havoc]
|
I'm there for you, here with you, it's clear its crystal
|
I air before you only get stronger the things, you been through
|
I don't kill you thats what it'll do
|
Run with a few multiple-scribed, they say we belong in a fuckin' zoo
|
We done crashed all sorts of clubs forcin' the love
|
Often above them cowards and them so called thugs
|
When we come through respect is there, cause we demand it
|
Know the mobb is in the building, we officially landed
|
Keep your eyes on the man with the hammers, they can't stand us
|
Try to raid us the faggots snitchin' and got the cameras
|
Cock the cannons but shorty just keep dancin' cuz it might
|
be a chance that it won't pop off
|
If it do stay close to the wall, we gettin' it on
|
You about to witness fellas who gifted in brawl
|
My homie Lyndon Erik Da Bob pissin' you off
|
This southern cat finnin' to get it so kiss ya cross
|
|
[Chorus]
|
So if you goin' thru it but you won't let it hold you down
|
(Just throw up your hands) C'mon ma
|
We gon party to the crack of dawn lets get it on with the girls and me and my mans
|
|
[Prodigy]
|
Theres only few things i die for
|
Infamous my family, this money, sonny I hit the sky for
|
we don't take time off, we take rhymes off
|
Come with somethin better than that, to blow your mind more
|
Gettin our shine on... I think this due for a storm, hurricane Mobb
|
Rain on your parade and you can thank god
|
Or you can thank P, for simply not squeezin'
|
Really it wasnt called for, and you don't want it
|
to call for it, don't play my gun, it go off
|
Inside of your head oops, niggaz be dead
|
Then we drooped in the Coupes real heavy on the gas
|
Out there like the concord
|
I show you how to get murdered, and the cops never catch on
|
I show you how to do songs, then after than show
|
you how to do them contracts and get yours
|
|
[Chorus 2x]
|
|
[Havoc]
|
We ain't finished yet c'mon baby bring it back c'mon
|
You know that thing in the stash box
|
Ready to pop bast in the spot you stunt, you know we gon lock ass
|
Inevitable, can't control them slugs
|
Came from a place, that shape and mold them thugs
|
Flood the block with nothin but that gangsta shit
|
Y'all dead on that, now take ya miss, bitch.
|
|
[Prodigy]
|
It's plain to see, that you could never snake me
|
I never let the grass grow past my Nikes
|
Summertime in our wife beats, boiled this brick
|
outside with thermo shirts underneath tees
|
I stalely keep a mack on me, and let people
|
Try and contest Mobb Deep
|
|
Uh, yeah, yeah, c'mon
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
Yeah
|
M-O-B-B Baby
|
(Just throw up your hands)
|
0-4.. Kanye
|
Flip it out my nigga
|
|
-----------------
|
Throw Your Hands (In The Air)
|
| Mobb Deep |
