Lyrics:
The buses and trains are choirs
Sings nice like Mariah
I'm fire, I'm real no costume
Cause of that Brooklyn gospel, that Brooklyn Gospel
I'm fire I'm real no
)
So if you got beef better think again
(Number one)
Cause you can't win
(You can't win)
I guess you know by now who's number one
Brooklyn
the tabernacle
Some would say the chapel is a haven
The place to travel to escape from the grasp of the enemy
And by the Holy Trinity, you break the shackles
Where
That I live
Choir: Got me
Morrison: Living five?
Choir: Living
Morrison: Manity?
Choir: Need you
Morrison: Need the thing
Echo: thing
Choir: That is
motherfuckin head off
Once again, niggas know my style, God damn it
Unless it's on the cut so give me
The mic and watch me slam it
Hard like Shaquille, oh you
"Booty, " and the only
Lyrics I could discern were Big, big booty
What you got a big booty again and again
JLo marking her
Territory if you could troll
the room is quiet again
Ocean says the song "feels like a Rubik's
Cube melodically you want something
Emotionally rich on that
You know what I'm saying? But
and put one in the air for me
Tell my enemies fuck 'em, they know already but fuck 'em
Tell 'em again with a middle finger and a chuckle
You don't know nann
prom— I promise!
This is a token of my affection
Keep me by your side you'll never need no protection
I'm here to make right what is destined
I love
and put one in the air for me
Tell my enemies fuck 'em, they know already but fuck 'em
Tell 'em again with a middle finger and a chuckle
You don't know nann
to pack a thirty-eight
Nine, ten; you put me in a pen
if I could do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin
[Wyclef - Verse One]
I'm from a land of black
you really need a pro
Cause my shit's more rugged than G.I. Joe
Don't front honey, act like you know
Now big up to my Brooklyn mob (Brooklyn
the Tabernacle choir
And I wanted you to see 'em all I wished that you were there
I looked across the room and saw you standin' on the stair
And when I caught
the Tabernacle choir
And I wanted you to see 'em all I wished that you were there
I looked across the room and saw you standin' on the stair
And when I caught
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out,
the same
Hold me in your arms again
I need your love
I need your time
When everything's wrong
You make it right
I feel so high
I go alive
I
ARTHUR: Well, I AM king...
DENNIS: Oh king, eh, very nice. An' how'd you get that, eh? By
exploitin' the workers -- by 'angin' on to outdated
without a search warrant
Chorus
[Verse 3 Bristal ]
Once again it's on
The mother fucking psychos M.A.F.I.A.
Bitches feel us, we the realest
My Bed
sir"
Then she serves me coffee, tea, or seltzer
And each night when I retire, the Mormon Tabernacle choir sings
"Blumberg, bye bye"
I was in
the heart, so this shit ain't hard
Once you hear Brooklyn, you know that it's hard
I'll murder you on yo track as a start, ay
I don't fuck with trends, dog I
you really need a pro
Cause my shit's more rugged than G.I. Joe
Don't front honey, act like you know
Now big up to my Brooklyn mob (Brooklyn
for the Disco Day
Hello Brooklyn
New York, New York, it's a hell of a town
You know the Bronx is up and I'm Brooklyn down
Because they don't
won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need
Come round by my side and I'll sing you a song
I'll sing it so softly, it'll do no one wrong
On Birmingham Sunday the blood ran like wine
.jpg/220px-Once_Again_(John_Legend_album_-_cover_art).jpg "Tom Papa Once Again")
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