Downtown Swinga 00 Songtext
von M.O.P.

Look, you niggas can get the finger, not your regular rap singer
A bell ringer, yeah, a downtown swinger
And if I got to use my pistol to
Dismiss you herbs with somethin to prove
Kid, I ain′t got nothin to lose
It's Billy Danze, holdin up the slack
You jump if you want chump, cause I bust caps, clack clack
Salute to all mines indeed
Hilfiger niggas drink brew and puff weed
Yeah we like it raw, plus we keep it real
The B-I-double-L-Y, what you feel
That I would flip the script and flag from the scene
I′m still in the 'ville, I'm still with my own team
Comin through with the crew, you can′t accept it
From Crooklyn, home where it′s definitely hectic
Before rappin, I was cappin, with seven-one-eight gunslinger
Bill, a downtown swinger


In nineteen-ninety-four, motherfuckers get slayed
And my freestyles are no longer freestyles, cause now I'm gettin paid
I be the same Lil′ Fame, ain't a damn thing changed
Except I smoke a twenty dollar bag of weed a day
The downtown swinger, the ex-crack slinger
The ruckus bringer, the motherfuckin bell ringer
Cause Lil′ Fame ain't takin a fall
And when I die make sure you bury me with a cassette of Paid In Full
Kid, fuck all the blamma lamma
I′m from the place where niggas be jumpin up outta the Bamma
Slappin niggas with the hammers
Enemies squeeze triggers, niggas get bumped off and dumped off
So I strap to clap whenever the shit jump off
My mission is lettin competition know the deal
Who we be, M.O.P. representin the real
You see it, I be it, and at the same time bring a
Ruckus out for ground, it's the downtown swinger

I'm known for wreckin microphones, M.O.P.′s the fattest
As a matter of fact, the maddest
The baddest, herbs you know the status
I do a bad job, a real job, you wouldn′t be safe with God
Because I'm movin with the ill squad
Rappers are frontin, ain′t nothin weak here, ain't nothin sweet here
I′m breakin calm down like a beach chair
Clack clack, clack clack, clack clack, clack clack, blaow
Clacker, booger, clacker, booger, clacker, booger

The M.O.P. is goin back, way before a herb got a gat
Whenever it was a crisis, pullin ice has kept us back
The Brownsvillians is illin, kid it get deep
That's why I tell motherfuckers to back up and play me feet
We workin with nines, tecs, ips, macs
Hammers with some power that wave right through your back
And to the death until the day I′m dead
Come to flippin the seven-one-niner, yeah, a downtown swinger