Pop da Brown Hornet - No More Mr. Nice Guy Lyrics

Writer(s) : HARRIS, JAMES SAMUEL III / LEWIS, TERRY STEVEN / COOK, NORMAN / NOEL, LESTER
Artist: Pop da Brown Hornet Lyrics
Popularity : 39 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 10 on The Undaground Emperor
Rate: No More Mr. Nice Guy gets avg. rating 3.8 out of 10 based on 6 ratings. Rate the song now!!!

[Intro]
Aiyo, got ya mutha****a seein stars
(Brown Hornet, Pop)
Blastin mutha****as out the mutha****in box
(Out the box)

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
Shake rattle & roll, ratters than ya peasants ya peasants
Form a line, while I'm handin out presents
Stiff jabs or stiff kicks, for a *****
Big back with stiff ****, for my *****es

Burn like a cancer stick, free loaded spit
Them cops that killed Diallo, they can suck my ****
41 shots, enough lead to take a city exam
Or ain't that one man with the NYPD

Who need the Ku Klux Klan
I ain't runnin or hiddin, like 2Pac I'm riddin and dyin
New York, New York, It's where brothers are sport
Make it to the playoffs, don't get happy get ya head blown off

We got **** for nuts, puttin fingers on red buttons
Ready to launch, tellin us, turnin ya arms
Hell no baby, ya devils must be crazy
Out of ya mind, I'm holdin on to my nine

[Chorus: Smoke (Pop Da Brown Hornet)]
No More Mr. Nice Guy (No More Mr. Nice Guy)
No More Mr. Nice Guy (No More Mr. Nice Guy)
No More Mr. Nice Guy (No More Mr. Nice Guy)
No More Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr.

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
You hold every sentimental
As for me, I lost my feelings somewhere inside the temple
Where they got throat cutters and back stabbers
A life is lost right in front of your eyes, nothing really matters

You just go on living, Projects is like prison
We got fags and dikes, razor blades and knives
Homo thugs, and all type of drugs
Addicts, snitches, *****es, holdin ya pictures

With nothin on but a thong
**** me, leave at night, for a trailer visit, **** you in the morn
Bad boys, we killin toys, they muffle and noise
Never lose they boys, they just keep on squeezin

Bodies drop for no reason, kill you for breathin
Rumble till we even, or till one of us die
Eye for an eye, yo it's no more Mr. Nice Guy
Heads gotta fly, we 'em up, let 'em hang dry

Choke 'em till they pass out, wake up in ya briefs
Playin for keeps, yo **** you and your peeps
Never had it good, my last album went wood
Bought my words when you hear this, I'm movin out the hood

Takin no prisoners, no eye witnesses, if ya sensitive
Back up, you want no part of this
Ghetto bastard, who never got his *** kicked
I just stay kickin ***, got the mic and the smash

Step up, feel the blast from the Brown Bomber
You don't really want drama, quick to start ****
But then go runnin to ya mama "Dial 911
Brown Hornet on the new cent, he ****in with my son"

***** tell that piece of **** to finish what he started
With this cold hearted, half retarded, hip hop artist
Weak rapper, told ya lame *** not to cry
But you gotta fry ****in wit no more Mr. Nice Guy

[Chorus]

[Outro]
Ai-yo, ai-yo, ai-yo, this Smoke right here
The new millennium, ain't no more Mr. nice guy
That's right, that's right
When you see us in the club, there's no more Mr. nice guy

When you see us in the streets, no more Mr. nice guy
That's right, Baby Pop, Brown Hornet baby
Smoke Records, RNS Productions, Ain't no more Mr. nice guy
We're not playin, it's not a game


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