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lirik lagu frank knight – welcome to brooklyn

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[verse 1: frank knight]

you see my early days in were raised in gravesend
right where knizza father left and that phase changed him
now soon as pops dipped my moms kept me educated
but my best lessons learned; what the streets demonstrated
be calm cause they feast on those who intimated
look at the track record just the anti timid made it
been deceptive when we con, so we formed decepticons
we in the hood like the dirty crown restaurants
i been more fresh than esteban check i got the best up on
the smif-n-wessun flow they jamming like the tech up armed
my mama in the kitchen slaving in a small kitchen
she told me as a infant never put down where you living
that one room shack or apartment you live your mansion
so i rep this like i birthed this and it had my grandson
now lean to my theme like a fiend in the street
while queens scream for the county king in the v

[hook]

welcome to brooklyn, here they don’t play fair
welcome to brooklyn, the great get made here
b.k. state of mind rep it till i die
whether flatbush, canarsie, coney island, bed-sty (2x)

[verse 2: frank knight]

welcome to the rawest place they pitching with a taurus
where souls are jungle wild, to hold more green than a forrest
even corner thugs cautious cause the corner far from gorgeous
you see the coldest k!llers all just step on nana’s porches
they ran on old deloris and wetted her like a walrus
no life line the medic called it d-mn your grandma cordless
sins of older kin beef, the reason why she caught this
shots tapped her like morse, she bl–dy like morris
like when he played the soul ricky facing death’s touch
how ironic wetted breast seeming/s-m-n like her chest nut
my ghetto borough real making old ladies vest up
i don’t glorify i’m horrified the world so messed up
my brooklyn life made me a philosophical bandit
smelled the smoking chrome from hands hotter than gambit
ghetto psycho’s cutting eyes without a shady look
it’s buck fifties on the q train y’all never made me shook

[hook]

welcome to brooklyn, here they don’t play fair
welcome to brooklyn, the great get made here
b.k. state of mind rep it till i die
whether flatbush, canarsie, coney island, bed-sty (2x)

[verse 3: frank knight]

you want to see a brooklyn dude play then get a floor-seat
this ain’t the barclay’s yapped chains, from the flossy
two seaters, tool heaters cruel creatures new divas
cool sneakers, rude features, you see us, you bleeders
fame knife flaunters nah they don’t grip the taurus
they carving cooch faces giving mugs a cl-t-toris
i’ll will whoop your black -ss, if you tell me do something
from brooklyn, never take orders go do something
mess around lose something you will never move nothing
we chris reeve your spine, all because you fronting
really it’s funny ain’t it, we tainted, by money making
our innocence hasted, wasted now we feeling we facing
the traffickers up in “taken” but no liam father saving
we in time timberlake’n petty crime time racing
worry ’bout tomorrow only if tomorrow come
look around this is brooklyn welcome to the horror son

[hook]

welcome to brooklyn, here they don’t play fair
welcome to brooklyn, the great get made here
b.k. state of mind rep it till i die
whether flatbush, canarsie, coney island, bed-sty (2x)