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brooklyn’s finest - gravy lyrics

[intro: gravy]
uh*huh
yep, uh, yep
uh, ayo

[verse 1: gravy, fabolous]
peep my style, hummer truck, no insurance
n*ggas running their mouth, but i was ot tourin’
just bought a loft with a maid named florence
heard the cops is on my ass for a warrant * what’s his name?
who shot him? i got him
f*ck a hip*hop diss song
they don’t know we got handguns this long
i’m somewhere doing their lists wrong
just think, the same lips you kiss on
prolly gettin’ p*ssed on, it’s on, ma’f*cker (yeah, uh)
me and fab got the brook’ on smash like an airplane crash
n*ggas love to talk sh*t outta they ass
get it? talking sh*t, knowing they ass
i got the [?] ready to [?]
warning you n*ggas, i’m on your ass
the money long like stretch maybach’s
family ties like michael j. fox
i pull on they blocks, stomach’s gеt sick
i offer [?] tell ’em gеt your dough up
n*gga, next time, i’ma let you throw up
better show up
[chorus: gravy, fabolous]
gravy and fab’ll make you sh*t in your drawers
brooklyn, goin’ out to all: franklin
[?], [?]
church ave, clarkson
gates ave

[verse 2: gravy, fabolous]
my bed–stuy ho look vicious, cook dishes
game tight enough to book b*tches
slide through the pat*down and the pocketbook friskes
with the .40 cal’, i like shawty style
say something now, blaow, blaow (yeah, uh*huh, yeah)
all it takes is one shot, red dot to his fitted
n*ggas ain’t on my radar blibbit, blibbit
y’all talk it, we live it
dirty money, we get it
swiss account six digits, midgets
we exquisite, touchin’ riches
keep your hands high, you see the street sweeper
i’m not a peacekeeper (uh*uh,) i put a
n*gga six feet deeper (uh*huh,) the sooner
you put out a tune or two
i’ll have [?] gettin’ footage of the funeral
haha
n*ggas is mad ’cause i stepped my game up
we point fingers to get lames touched
look how i came, mon*star, street fam tote bangers
we dangerous (yeah), ain’t us, assh0l*?
we famous, can you blame us? brooklyn forever
real n*ggas gon’ come together
some’ll never see the coupe with the [?] leather
the heat keep a n*gga sweatin’ like summer weather
we hangin’ bird ass n*ggas from the feathers
from wherever, it’s whatever
[chorus: gravy, fabolous]
gravy and fab’ll (yeah) make you sh*t in your drawers
brooklyn, goin’ out to all: [?]
[?], [?]
[?], kingston
[?] (uh)

[verse 3: gravy]
half a mill’, bought a house in orchard beach
rottweilers in the yard off the leash
murcielago in the garage waitin’ on the…

- gravy lyrics

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