On the Front Line lyrics
by M.O.P.
Aight motherf*cker.. Primo, a-heh a-hah, a-hey!
Sssssss..
[Verse One: Billy Danze]
Yo, I was raised where, cats blaze automatic weapons
And high-steppers don't high-step, without protection
The rules of the game is, spit first
Until you see his wig burst, before he flame his
You see a man gon' claim his
Duke a soldier gon' aim his, and try to kill yo' ass
n*ggas see Burk''on the conduit
In the left lane doin his thang, whippin a Buick
Fizz Won (Whattup boy? I'm ridin shotgun)
They'll never be able to understand what we got son
We've been down a long time
I'm beginnin to think I got traces of Womack in my bloodline
BOM-BURST two times on top of the line
You plexiglas n*ggas ain't f*ckin with mine (HELL NAH!)
We keep it so real, without bein signed to a deal
You could still shine for the 'Ville
{*various samples scratched*}
[Verse Two: Lil' Fame]
Straight from the Hilltop, where steeeel, pop
And the, coast ain't clear it's reeeal, hot
Keep the heat real close cause it's, dangerous
And the, game don't change Fame bang with his
It's the legendary, cap peelers we the illest
Of the realest blood-spillers, we guerrillas (n*ggA FEEL US)
All day, right back at you live
From William Berkowitz (SLASH) Fizzy Womack Avenue
I send goons after you, trappin you blastin
WHO f*ckin with the rapper dude?
Don't even GOOO THERE
I'm from the 'Ville Brooklyn Military (OHHH YEAHH)
N.E.W. AYO R.K
We'll wax yo' ass like floors with Parkay
Glorious, come stomp on tour with us
(M.O.P.!) We, Warriorz
{*various samples scratched*}
[Verse Three: Billy Danze]
Hey yo the game don't change only the players
I'd like to welcome you young bucks, to these homicide layers
We lead (COWARDS TO GUNFIGHTS) right (FROM TALKIN NONSENSE)
Sayin my family is unable to drop bomb hits
Napalm sh*t, move in a hail of fire
Bill, sire, trailed by an empire (FIYAH!)
Can't nobody change my two step
I'm ready to rip for respect, Fizzy talk to 'em
[Lil' Fame]
What's the lesson you learn when the Smith and Wessun was burned
Slugs flyin you realizin that it's your turn
Didn't them n*ggas warn ya BAM (BUKA BUKA) BAM
(BUKA BUKA BUKA BUKA) Get the f*ck up off the corner!
Them goons was hot on ya!
Chasin you down, c*ckin pistol poppin and they wasn't stoppin
Til they finished lacin you down, peep the steez n*gga
Snakes don't belong 'round here, n*gga breeze!
{*various samples scratched*}