Bklyn Party (Foreword Vol. 2)

[Intro: Hype Man]
Mic check. Y’all ready to have a party out there? I can’t hear y’all. Is Brooklyn ready to have a party out there? Brooklyn’s out there. Is Bed Stuy? Is Bed Stuy?

[Verse 1: Poison Pen]
Yo, we make parties
Escalate into giant brawls. The bouncers
Didn’t check me correctly. Ergo, your Timberlands
Turned into running shoes. Of course
That’s if your knees don’t turn noodle. Come on
You know me. Niggas warn their chicks, “Stand up”
When they due on the M.O.P
“Ante Up” when there’s many rough. Shorty
All moist—I think her panties stuck
Peel ‘em off, wring ‘em out, make her fish fry
Let’s dance. Nope? Then you’re wearing this drink tonight
It’s just one of them nights. Come on, son
One too many fights. Come on, son
You can’t take the Brooklyn dudes no place. Got dime, grimy
Broads with me. I speak and act drill seargant
Pick a target. While she freaking him, the other one dick ‘em
Dumb punk, I pickpocket it

[Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
[Poison Pen]
It’s the Brooklyn party. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas. Everybody
Grab somebody. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas
[Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
N.A. Rock, Myrtle Ave
[?] Avenue, Surf Avenue

[Verse 2: Poison Pen]
Yo, when there’s too much
Testosterone on walls, soon to follow are
The liquor that falls from the bottle, courage in
A cup. Yeah, you’re gonna get hurt. When Brooklyn’s written
All over my face, dawg, you might get murked
You fall all over the place, looking like a jerk
[?]. Son, I beat
Sixty-four million sperm cells to get here
You think I’m worried ‘bout you? I’ll work my ox
Like a fader when I run amok. You’re number one pussy
Your man is close runner up. And y’all belong together
[?]. See, it ain’t shit
For me to Gucci-pop. Y’all don’t want to see my loonies shot

[Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
[Poison Pen]
It’s the Brooklyn party. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas. Everybody
Grab somebody. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas
[Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
N.A. Rock, Pitkin Ave
Surf Avenue, Saratoga Ave

[Verse 3: Poison Pen]
See these hoes? I’m trying to fuck
You’re trying to battle? At the end of the day
Your records still suck. Who cares if you battle
All night? Your songs need to be polished
Hearing your wax is like rummaging through garbage
They don’t what they started. I’ll roll with jolly stompers. You loser
Brooklyn party is one case. Every different set
Of niggas I run with, motherfucker
We got a different handshake. We perform
We slide in real early. Punk, don’t act wild on records
Trying to stash pot, shock collar weapons. Hours later
Stronghold is strolling undetected
If it pops off, we get wild and reckless. We put
Ninety-nine on the guest list. We’re clean-cut guys
[?]. Blunted out, dreaded out
Metal out. Guess who sound ghetto now?
Came to the spot in my house slippers. I know what you
Thinking: damn. Stepping through here with no beat
Son, you got to be nice. But we always on
Point. [?] and faded chicks
Is hitting Powerball Lottery twice

[Hook: Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
[Poison Pen]
It’s the Brooklyn party. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas. Everybody
Grab somebody. We don’t need anybody
Witnessing a robbery. Mind your business
Man, find your bitches before we take ‘em with us
They tell us the truth about y’all niggas
[Poison Pen and Samples with [?] Scratches]
N.A. Rock, [?], Rockaway
Ave, Pennsylvania Ave

[Outro: Poison Pen]
Shit. Brooklyn party. Kings County. Dawg, parties don’t end ‘til five in the morning. The bottle glow. The bouncers don’t check us. That’s what really popping, man. Ain’t nothing like a Brooklyn party, man. But watch yourself ‘cause we’re watching you. (Emvees). Be careful. ‘Cause we know that you ain’t from here. When you got that stupid tourist look on your face, it’s a wrap for you. So be real cool when you in the hood. We got them locked-door strip spots. Yo, we got Kennedy Fried Chicken. We got mama, we got crown. It’s all the same shit, motherfuckers. Bushwick, Bed Stuy, East New York, Crown Heights, Coney Island, Sunset Park, Dark Slope, yo. I ain’t got BET. I got [?]. You ain’t def. Don’t think it’s sweet ‘cause you see a brownstone and shit. Gentrification ain’t totally pop off yet. Shit, the 2000s like the 80s all over again. [?] Laffy Taffy, Peanut Chews, Now and Laters, Charleston Chews, penny gums, motherfuckers. So fuck with me