Rza - We Pop lyrics

We pop, we brawl, gettin' money til the day we fall

We pop, we brawl, gettin' money til the day we fall

Double barrel shotgun (blaow), pop son

I told nigga, just not run

I saw him on 205th in Fordham

This dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)

I blown ya, you need a blood donor

My bitch ghetto, like Florida and Laronia (girl)

Laundry mat hoes, who want clothes?

I flow checks, one followed by six o's (six o's)

I got hoes, in codes, in different areas

Four ton whips that's sittin' on interiors

The bass shake in the club like it's earthquakin'

I cock arm, pass the bomb, like Troy Aikman (Aikman)

Play the basement like Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson

You miserable, you get kidnapped by Kathy Bason

Thrown to the dungeon, for your spongin'

Of Wu Killa Bee, what's your total malfunction?

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we fall (yeah)

My glock (my glock), my four (my four)

throw shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)

From the P's, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my drawers (New York)

We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get money til the way we fall

Come on, let's cut the crap, money

I've been gettin' this rap money

Crack money, stack money, I'm tryin' to get that Shaq money

That Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, Michael Jack' money

Five hundred mill' and better, dog, yeah, now that's money

Act funny, ya'll make me laugh (haha)

Frontin' like you tough, you softer than a baby's ass

These lazy ass labels -- fuck you! Pay me cash

My crazy path promoted me into a Mercedes class

Yeah.., all ya'll can see is the back of my jersey

Blowin' in the wind, goin' back to Jersey

Off to Brooklyn, left you back in Jersey

I was doin' a buck 90 like a throwback jersey

Shame on a Nigga, take it back to Dirty

Run, game on a nigga, I'll be back in thirty

Seconds, got the world's greatest record

And that money I'mma spend it like your greatest record

This Division, all the ladies respect it

Disrespect it and the eighty'll check it

It ain't hard to see how ya'll ignorin' the steel

Niggas that I clap, lookin' for me still

Til they look like they came out of George Foreman grill

Thoughts are stolen on Free, must be on them crills

Plus my, team gon' be holdin' like forty mill'

Thoughts are rollin' on E., must be on those pills