Made You Look

'Made You Look'
Bravehearts
Now lets get it all in perspective
For all yall enjoyment, a song yall can step with
Yall appointed me to bring rap justice
But I aint five -O, yall know its Nas, yo
Grey Goose and a whole lotta hydro
Only describe us as soldier survivors
Stay laced in the best, well dressed
With finesse in a white tee, looking for wifey
Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely
Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze
We can drive thru the city no doubt
But dont say my cars topless, say the titties is out
Newness heres the anthem
Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot with
Push the pool stick in your new crib
Same hand that you hoop with, swing around like you stu-pid
King of the town? Yeah, I been that
You know I click-clack; where you and your mens at?
Do the Smurf, do the Wop, Baseball Bat
Rooftop like we bringing 88 back
They shooting – aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Getting big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at?
They shooting – aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Getting big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at ?
This aint rapping, this is Street Hop
Now get up off your ass, like your seats hot
My live ******, lit up the reefer
Trunk of the car, we got the streetsweeper
Dont start none, wont be none, no reason for your mans
To panic, you dont wanna see no ambulances
Knock a pimps drink down in his pimp cup
Thats the way you get Timberlandd up
Let the music diffuse all the tension
Baller convention , free admission
Hustlers, dealers and killers can move swift
Girls get close, you can feel where the tools kept
All my just-coming homies, parolees
Get money, leave the beef alone slowly
Get out my face, you people so phoney
Pull out my waist, the eagle four-forty
They shooting – aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Getting big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at?
They shooting – aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Getting big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at?
I see ****** running, yo, my mood is real rude
I lay you out, show you what steel do
Mobsters dont box, my pump shot obliges
Every invitation to fight you punk asses
Like Pun said, you aint even en mi clasa
Maybach Benz, back seat, TV plasma
Ladies looking for athletes or rappers
Whatever you choose, whatever you do
Make sure he a thug and intelligent too
Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love
Let me feel how the head is
Females whose the ***iest is always the nastiest
And I like a little sassiness, a lotta class
Mommy reach in your bag, pass the fifth
Im a leader at last, this a don you with
My ninesll spit, ****** lose consciousness