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wreck records - tri-boro lyrics

wreck records ft. natural elements – “tri-boro”
[emcee(s): l-swift, a-b-tta, and mr. voodoo]
[producer(s): charlemagne]
[sample (melody): nina simone – “i can’t see n0body”]

[intro: l-swift and mr. voodoo]
l-swift: yeah, yeah. take a trip through the boroughs. one time. one time, yo
mr. voodoo: right, right. yeah, right, right. right, yeah, yeah, yeah. brooklon

[bridge: l-swift]
ayyo
view from uptown, brooklyn-bound
bronx, queens, and long island sound
even other cities come writing exact
but it ain’t where your from, it’s where you’re at

[hook: l-swift, a-b-tta, and mr. voodoo]
[all]
from
city to city, from state to state
natural e, and we’re raising the stakes and we’re doing this for
[l-swift]
my borough
[a-b-tta]
nah, my borough
[mr. voodoo]
nah, my borough
[all]
nah, the tri-borough

[verse 1: l-swift]
ayyo
i’ll rest up in the bronx, where the people are fresh
bust a shot, make you bleed in your vest—indeed, it’s stress. i’m on
the iron horse, 2 line, laidback, but don’t forget
the .45—check your train map. i’ll load, c-ck back
release and aim that at the perimeter of where your brain at
you know where you could check the game at: yankee stadium
161, po’ n-ggy patrolling ‘round the clock
that’s ‘cause central booking’s only down the block
the sound of shots got you ducking under park benches
your heart flinches, n-ggas jumping over sharp fences
i see your puerto rican dime, my man, and get a friend
seemed like the section 5’s and valley beef would never end
so we’re proceeding on the freeway late, state police
is creeping while you’re half-asleep and on the deegan deep-end
canine sniffing the stashbox you keep your weed in
but i ain’t trying to hear the rights they’re reading, so we’re breezing
even them n-ggas say the bronx is terrific
it is kind of different, northeast to be specific
where your wages at? i say they’re fat, i’m from the borough where
hip hop was created at. that’s why we’re doing this from…

[hook: l-swift, a-b-tta, and mr. voodoo] (x2)
[all]
from
city to city, from state to state
natural e, and we’re raising the stakes and we’re doing this for
[l-swift]
my borough
[a-b-tta]
nah, my borough
[mr. voodoo]
nah, my borough
[all]
nah, the tri-borough

[verse 2: a-b-tta]
i’m from the moneymaking
island (where?), 125 to be exact. son, i’m
trying to put manhattan on the map and that’s that
used the truth and setting trails to boost face knapsacks and back-
-slap the fake cats who yap their wack raps. i got
a stash of fat sacks so i could whip a black ac’, and if
not, i’ll walk the ground uptown, rocking my nikes
when po-9’s watching the heist up in washington heights, when thug
n-ggas on the corner stay starting to fight, in front
of grocery stores, broad-day, sparking a light
downtown, tunnel-dumping, it’s a part of the sights
late-night, jet to the ville, chilling out in the dark, we’re spitting
game to chickenheads in the park—it’s all a art
jigging feds in their heart—you know it’s really black straight from
the city that never sleeps. you better keep
some heavy heat within the leather piece. i’ll represent the streets
from uptown to the lower east side, puffing the lye
word life, ny bust a slug in the sky
know’m saying? grant projects, baby, 125, yo

[verse 3: mr. voodoo]
from a cell to the street, feets-first, i’ll burst from my mom’s
sh-ll to the place where the warriors dwell
brooklon, it look calm—don’t be deceived ‘cause it’s filled with the
dumbest, crookedest n-ggas that ever breathed
honeys that look like jada but they’re trifling old b-tches
with razors to slice you and leave you with telephone pole st-tches
hold these gats ‘cause we roll in packs and every day’s like
april 15th, and y’all n-ggas know it’s tax
when we -ssemble, y’all tremble. we live for the
jook, took off the “b” and add a “c” for the crook
who descend upon the earth like the four hors-m-n to rob
plunder, pillage a town or village like the nors-m-n
quick to take aim and blast a .38 snub-nosed
and we’re the reason why all the hip hop clubs close

- wreck records lyrics

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