Cops & Robbers
(Lord Tariq & Muggs talking)

Trying to tell you man

I'm going up in there

Trying to dig into niggas pockets

Fuck that man

-{Lord Tariq}-

Either you be real or you be dead

Hey killer, be a killer

That's the rules to this game

In the court of the law

With let niggas that feel ya

They know cat dealers

But with some new shit, like Clue shit

We strap for this thriller

You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out

Cock the mack back, blow his back out

And take the back route

And that's what that's about

Understand? I wan't cans in hand

This shit is real, never phony

Don't come short with my mo-ney

I'll only tell you once Tony

"Don't fuck me, don't you ever try to fuck me"

If so, trust me, you outta luck B

And try to sit high where them drugs be

Filthy rich looking broke

Fuck a bitch I wan't the world thust

Keeping feds of my ass

I gotta think fast

'Cause black man white town you know this shit won't last

We try to bumble like ass

Stay low, got to hurl that cash

Into the trouble blow past, that's how you do it


We got cops and robbers

Niggas and spicks

Flashy cars, ghetto stars

Moving stones and bricks

It ain't over on the streets

We got blocks to get

So heads up, guns cock

Don't get rocked to this


-{Lord Tariq}-

Now if the good die young

Then what the fuck that makes me?

And who the fuck are you to rape me?

Less then the best, bulletproof love

The thugs holding it down in the decks

And for the frauds I got techs

Heading straight for your chest

Feel me on this

My word is priceless

You can't pawn this

I might diss drop jewels

The way I cop jewels

The way my nine drops flues

The way my mind influes

What's a nigga to do a murder

Type of shit you never heard of

>From jimbos to fat burger

On some last long shit

I be doing this forever like that nigga Von Zeil

Plus I calm shit, I bomb shit

I had alot of Brooklyn niggas

Saying "Yeah them Bronx niggas they get down"

So hold your heat up, and move fast

You got to keep

Because Clue, Minnesota, Lord Tariq run these streets what

Nigga peep up, talking to the sidewalk

And there's nothing to comprehend

When my nine talks



I peep the devil screaming BK

'Cause I rock for B.I.G.

Live like pop did, shells couldn't stop the kid

In some rap I pack, used to be in passing for crack

Molka type of lid with a passing for stacks

Dreads call me African Black named after my medicine

Street veteran with one gun

Killed eleven men

It's too crazy, y'all fake tough guys with full gazi's

Blue mercedes, three pounds under the blue avy

Bomb crews my mind power beyond you

Now I push your hair line back

Do what the con do

I warned you, and sworn no talking

Bring the thing out

Got the block surrounded like cops

And shots rang out

Animal instinct, blood type is therobreed

Run with thero heads

Leave you in another burough bed

Respect my hood, like the heats do

Be k to the Bronx

Poor kane, Lord Tariq & Clue


DJ Clue:


DJ Clue, Professional