We use cookies to customize content and advertising, to provide social media features, and to analyze traffic to our site. We also share information about your use of our site with our trusted social media, advertising and analytics partners. Read more.

    M.O.P. / Lyrics

    Playlist 0 Rate 0 Like & Share Print Email Play

    "Home Sweet Home" Lyrics


    Rank: (−) history »
    −/5 from 0 users
    Charts: view all »
    Referring urls:view all »



    [Lil' Fame]
    Yo, home skillet
    Get back 'fore I push your shit back
    Yo, we're here to put it down with the Lord (I'm wit dat!!)
    Blaze him (yo, yo)
    Blaze him wit a 4 (4)
    Cash blow loco I bring the heat to the street
    Cuz ya don't know
    BROOKLYN Military Killin every motherfucker in sight get hard
    w-w-w DOT I-Will-Fuck-You-Up DOT com (strap bombs)
    Explode, watch me switch modes
    Grab a clutch pop a gear, now I'm in Flipmode
    Niggaz gash on 99 octane fuel
    You deserve a swift kick in your ass cuz you's a mule
    We keep on duckin from the Firing Squad
    First you thought you was hard now you calling a guard
    Like I'm, oh my Lord...Have Mercy
    Please talk to Little Fame cuz he's fixing to merk me
    I roll through your hood like it's my hood
    And won't have a second thought about if I could
    It ain't nothing sweet down here
    Guns pop for niggas to eat down here

    Home Sweet Home
    Clack Clack Salute Salute I'm never alone!!
    Brooklyn - Send em back home!
    Brooklyn - Send em back home where you at?

    [Lord Have Mercy]
    Never bring B (B)
    R (R)
    Double O K (K)
    L Y into it
    Bring size into it
    Sneak 9's into it
    Theives rise into it
    Seek crime, blow through it
    See shines, go to it
    Street name
    Tweak game, rob you stupid(stupid)
    Big trucks, dick ones ride exclusive
    You don't know me, and never will
    It's cold streets, don't approach me, we never build
    Nigga, home of the pick pockets
    Four fifth polish, lift wallets
    Notorious like Chris Wallace
    We dollar cab hop from bad block to bad block
    Coppers crash spots with pad locks get backed up
    Handcuffed, chasing grands in tha Wastelands (Niggaaaaa)
    These boys in tha hood, we poison your hood
    Downtown swinging, loud bring noise in your hood (C'mon)


    [Billy Danze]
    Now everybody rise to the occasion
    Duck when I'm aiming (First family!)
    Yeah, it's so amazing
    The hell I be raising, is from the hell I was raised in
    It ain't nann nigga fadin shit
    I come equipped
    I put my life on the line for mine everytime
    Bitch, come and march with these Brooklyn soldiers
    You'll talk wit em, bark when you talk to these crooked ass cobras
    Hollered at (Bum Bum)
    Fired at (gun noises)
    Fire back every time with my cousin
    Doin the unthinkable, the unthinkable Danze, still comin
    Gunning, you'll see the hilltops styling me
    I studied Brownsville criminology (Yes!)
    If you know a nigga as well as me
    you better bring a motherfuckin calvary

    This song was submitted on October 28th, 2004 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Dominick Lamb, Eric Murry, Jamal Gerard Grinnage, Wayne Notise.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Songs you may also like

    • same album
    • same artist
    • popular on LSI
    • new on LSI


    leaderboard activity


    Facebook (0) LetsSingIt (0)