Blow The Horns - M.O.P.

Yeah, when shit pops off in the club it’s all us

It ain’t Henny, it’s all heart and all guts

Y’all remember me from when the real niggas clutched

And wherever I ride, live niggas throw it up

I, switched the game, I’m doin boss things

I’m rollin in the Presidential lane, I ain’t playin

I (still) do it with Foxx (still) do it with Tef

(Still) do it with Fame (still) do it to death I…

Blow the horns on 'em

… yeah, yeah, yeah, gyeah, blow the horns on 'em

Blow the horns on 'em

… yeah, yeah, yeah, gyeah, blow the horns on 'em

What’chu think you like me?

You ain’t like me

Nigga you a punk, my homies get it in

And we let it out

A pistol in the waist is mo' different from a pistol in the trunk

So, act up if you want it

Y’all know me, I’m gon' keep it Olde English 800

F-I-Z-Z-Y Dub-Oh-Mack

Brownsville where you at?.

Where you at?

BLAOW!

Niggas wonder how me and Fame remain strong

BLAOW!

Five albums, six deals and we still on

BLAOW!

My lil' homies trainin to bang, we straightarm

BLAOW!

To let 'em feel the pain of the game, we play God

So now, we back nigga with straight bombs

And.

in fact nigga it’s napalm

So stay calm, I get to twitchin my arm

Grippin hittin you with e’rything I got in my palm now

Here’s your chance to advance

Get in your stance, I shoot the holster off of cowboy pants

I borrow a rap line from a legend, and put it with mine

Whatever rapper shit is hooder than mine?

This is Brook-Nam phenomenon (yeah) the whole nine yards

You know that old bullshit that we be on

(WHAT!) Cause where we at we adapt to drama

(AND I) tackle the track like it yapped my momma

I’ve been branded, and labelled a bandit

Stuck in the cut on some quicksand shit

One motion, pull click ass clique

I’m full and I’m focused you hoes just don’t fit

For y’all niggas thinkin I’m sick and then hopeless

I’m just winnin and bringin the dope shit

So, I slay y’all you get what you pay for

We ain’t forfeit the game, we was above the radar nigga