Salute Part Ii Lyrics - Singles - M.o.p.

"Yeah, they talkin about rap." 

"We don't rap, its not about rap we livin it what they talkin about. 

It's not about college or what you read in a newspaper or magazine. 

It's hear its reality, this is our nature. Its how we live." 

[Guru] 

Now everybody on Earth want to rap, we burnt all of that 

Knocked off the game, and cold broke is spat 

Gang Starr, will Billy Danze and Big Slap 

Word to Laze, big schools and big gats 

You didn't whip it right so pick up the pace 

Word to grimy niggas, they want to stick up the place 

Word to hiphop, plus a crib that's laced 

Primo's breaks, activate the mental, that's all 

We got credentials galore, fuck a small vending tour 

Yet, still, I be at the around-the-way spots 

Near where niggas be slinging innocent get hit by straight shots 

And brave cops, protect the community 

While corrupt cops, be harassing you and me 

Pullin me over, in front of the crib, in front of my neighbors 

Askin for favors, here's a cassette and why you 

Question my behavior? 

Pursuing me, trying to catch me off quard 

I shrug scars, you see a lot of hoes at thug bars 

I don't care what these beats my do 

We'll sun you, plus I see right through 

It's way it means to me and M.O.P. 

Just To Get a Rep, nigga, you best to step, nigga, Salute! 

[Chorus] 

Holdin it down 

Phony ass rappers 

Dead serious 

Finish em 

(Is this hiphop) Hell no this is war 

Heavy artillery, in my vicinty 

*repeat - change 5th line to: M.O.P.* 

[Billy Danze] 

Ah-yo, the game's called survival *echoes* I admit 

As a soldier, I've done a lot of shit 

To the so-called tough dude, I ain't mad at you 

But I wish I wouldn't of had to do the shit I had to do 

It's true, I would jump up in a Bamma 

And travle miles of road to unload this hammer 

(And I) Notice ?colors? when they glance 

At the baby boy of Haddy and Frank Danze 

I won't stress the blazin 

But I will think about what size slug best for the occasion 

(It's so amazin) ???? pop shit 

Like Windy Williams till you fuckers bury me 

(Who we be!) What, what's wrong, nigga? 

(First Family) Come, come on, nigga! 

(Ain't nothin cute) My niggas is ready to shoot 

For the love of the First Family thugs, Salute! 

[Chorus] 

[Lil' Fame] 

Before you slit your wrist, bitch, imagine this 

M.O.P., Gang Starr (Damn!) hazardous 

Thugs that got love for this hiphop and shit 

Makin words rhyme at the same time poppin shit 

I used to go to jams, and drop grammar 

Before I left niggas told me (Boy take your hammer!) 

Sure nuff, shit got rowdy 

Dumped off my first clip at a house party 

I love this rap shit, though, the love is clear 

But fuck the parties, my nigga, I lost a brother there 

Only if I'm gettin paid (That's right) 

And the shit gon' benefit the trade 

I snatch a mic, turn it out, bad 

Even have you smooth niggas fuckin up yours shoes and your outfit 

I be, the Brownsville slugger (Signing out) 

Act like you know what I'm about, Salute! 

[Chorus]