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featuring Scoob
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Chorus: Big Daddy Kane
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Come on y'all and feel the groove
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Get on down and make your move
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Welcome to the funkiest
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Brooklyn style, laid out like this
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Chorus
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[Big Daddy Kane]
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I kicks the flavor good, to represent the neighborhood
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where I come from, and that's the place of Brooklyn
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where the grimies are born and bred
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And bullets are like eyeballs, two to the head
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[Scoob]
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Well is it Brownsville? Time to represent for the map
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where the peeps smoke blunts and like to wear mad gold caps
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The party addict about to explode
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From the 1-1-2, the double-3 ill zip code
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[Big Daddy Kane]
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Parlayin on the corner, drinkin 40's shootin cee-lo
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It's a Brooklyn thing, aight? You know our steelo
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And for those who just don't know how it go
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Play like a substitute teacher and ACT like you know
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[Scoob]
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So yo, who wanna set it? You better kick your best G
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You and your whole entourage couldn't test me
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I represent for the fo' main
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And if you're not a booty bandit, then niggaz can't hang
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Chorus
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[Big Daddy Kane]
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Now, let's get straight down to the point
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I represent for this Brooklyn joint, baby pah, where we're takin it to
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Makin a few dollars don't mean you gotta forget
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where you come from and try to be someone, that you're really not
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and front with what you got
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You're gonna be looked at as a black man still so keep it real
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What type of mission can I say you on?
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Because you musta done changed to some Grey Poupon, heh
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I'm really happy to see you blew up
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But always remember my man you grew up
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in the PJ's all your life, in a broken home
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(Scoob: Well alright now)
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Up in the PJ's all your life, keepin it strong, WHAT!
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I be the Louis Ave livin, live long lastin lover
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Bonafied black brother, word to the mother
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Skilled at trades at hand with those who made
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the man with support and always stayed a fan
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My dialectic style is perfected
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in ways you can't imagine rap bein accepted
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Funk'll slam like a doper jam, pops
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I'm takin mine like taxes with Uncle Sam
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So check out the asiatic type of flow
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like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn style
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Chorus
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[Scoob]
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Yo, this is Big Scoob, no practice
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I'm flippin on niggaz like little kids on that mattress
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You know my style, Baby Pah from the PJ's
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My lyrics so dope, they too fat for local DJ's
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So hear me out, no doubt, no need for screamin
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My boys in the back, clockin your jewels, and they scheamin
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Why did they step to me, I hit em, bow, bu-dow
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Knocked out his fronts cause the kid was mad fragile
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No need for beef chief I'm rollin mad deep
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So pick up your teeth, I got him shakin like a leaf
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Not tryin to scare you, I just wanna aware you
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I bet you won't even look at my face (WHAT WHAT WHAT) I dare you
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Yo nigga please, yo I'm nice with these
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while you're guardin your grill, I'll be beatin up your kidneys
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Me and my boys with the fat tec 9's
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with my joint cocked back, in case a punk tried to take mines
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Where I'm from there's no need for hesitation
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We cock and squeeze, now where's the doctor for this patient?
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He's drippin blood and now he's down to his last breath
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But he won't make it, cause he knows that my joint is def
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The ill, type of Brooklyn artist
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who rocks the har-dest, regard-less
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who you know and where you're from I pull your file
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(How?) Brooklyn style
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Chorus
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-----------------
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Brooklyn Style...Laid Out
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| Big Daddy Kane |
