[Verse One] Nowhere to run nowhere to hide it's the Lordz of Brooklyn Kings County do or die Switchblades for the rumble we're Lordz we brass knuckle Graffiti never died I made my name in the tunnel It's all about the fame I came to rain on you warriors Lordz...Come out to play You tried the rest try the best the L-O-R-D-Z of Brooklyn Like the Dodgers not the bums but we're the bombers There's a lotta sucker groups they be talkin' 'bout the troops but we burn them motherfuckers like tar beach on my roof Cause I been around the block doin' proud by my pop I said he worked on the dock busted chumps in his shop
Cause when you're a Lord you're a Lord all the way From your first cigarette to your last dyin' day
[Chorus] Turn it up y'all Here comes that sound
The Lordz of Brooklyn Sound! Again and again and again and again and again and again
[Verse Two: performed by ADMoney] Organized freakin' crime dirty ducky boy A hot 110 on you little dumb toys Cause I crash ya bash ya straight up harass ya Lemme tell ya something - Yo who the fuck asked ya? It's the Lordz of Brooklyn hittin' hard with a bat Here come the Lordz puttin' Brooklyn on the map You can't get with that you can't get with this The Lordz walk the tracks way deep in the Ridge Take a lotta pride stay the fuck off my turf I'm feelin' kind of tipsy yo somebody's gettin' hurt From the Verrazano Bridge to the brawls in the park Yo we claimed our mark bustin' heads in the bar So step to the side I'm on the edge of suicide Try to claim the fame I'ma snuff you in the eye Give you a swift kick in the ass real fast Mess with AdMoney I'ma put you in the past I never pack a gatt cause I'd rather fight with a pipe Just like a fuckin' Guinea bring a knife to a gunfight
[Chorus]
[Verse Three] Cause you're listenin' to the Lordz of Brooklyn Couldn't understand it till your shit got tookin' Step on my block hardrock get dropped Keep your mouth shut when you're talkin' to a cop Hold it up hold it up L. O.B.'s at the door Just another stick up everybody hit the floor We're out Saturday night still stayin' alive You can find the Lordz of Brooklyn gettin' drunk in some dive We're some pugilists not afraid to get our hands twisted Like the Duke got your grip put 'em up fight 'em bare fisted Strike picket make way for the union labor Ticket tape parade I couldn't be no traitor
Cause when you're a Lord you're a Lord all the way From your first cigarette to your last dyin' day
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