Broken Safety

Lyrics

[**feat. Jadakiss & Styles P:]
 [Kung Fu Sample:]
 *sounds of fighting*
 Heh, do you know any other styles?
 I am very grateful!
 Are you ready?
 I'm ready...
 [Jadakiss:]
 Uh, down on 40 Deuce, when I was a shorty duke
 That's when I first got the Naughty goose
 Now I come through in a sported coupe
 I know what you better do, stop talking bout what you outta do
 My crack spot is still portable
 Funerals are still affordable, I'm better than all of you
 I'm in the hood scraping 'em, Jadakiss, Rae and 'em
 Ya'll lame niggas, come uptown, spend a day with 'em
 Bigger ones, bootleg liquor runs, blow something, nigga
 Let the herb smoke hit your lung, get your guns
 The economy is down, so you already know
 It's gon' be a lot of homi's in the town
 That's why I'm still bringing the seed back
 The sneakers that I can't pronounce, that cost a G stack
 Niggas in the yard, got this on repeat, black
 Fuck saving hip hop, we bringing the streets back, what?
 [Raekwon:]
 Player spit snipping, different color wallies on
 Bliffen had to take 'em off, they fucked up the soles, flipped it
 I'm forever zooted, crushed up glass, I'm just flashing through it
 Nine times out of ten, suede down at the Jumer
 Maybach bloomers, playing rumors, card shark
 Getting cash money, take a loan, hit this tuner
 Put us together, he run sea, I run land, with one ruger
 Stop playing, you know we run rap, you know we done that
 Stop fronting, son, put the gun back
 We came with the containers, besides having the flamers
 My Mexican mans is famous
 Running through the streets, the bulldog
 Conehead hoodies on, eighteen five for footballs
 Maxed like I'm under a good wall, good G
 Good recipe, good status, a hood broad
 [Styles P:]
 I used to move brown rectangles
 Roll you a blunt, then smoke you with death's angel
 Chrome trey pound is making your neck dangle
 Blue trey eight is leaving your chest mangled
 It's math but the gun could kill you at all angles
 Leave the toast home, I'm leaving you all strangled
 Louis loafers on the Jaguar, gas peddles
 You got the cops with you, you ain't even half ghetto
 (Not even half) We neither here nor there
 But if, you was over here, you would of been got aired
 (Been got aired) Like a pair of white Nike's on a summer day
 Pointing the gun away, I could kill you niggas a hundred ways
 Mine's in a place that yours ain't, so I'm wearing war paint
 For the day that I see the Lord saint
 Blowing the purple haze, playing The Purple Tape
 Fuck with Chef or the Ghost, get left with a purple face
 [Kung Fu Sample:]
 Too bad, your courage will be the death of you
 *sounds of fighting*

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
02:45
Key
11
Tempo
89 BPM

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