Cops & Robbers Lyrics - Dj Clue

(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 be 

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 

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[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) 

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-{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 a lot 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, why'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!