Songtext Da heartbreaka Heather B.

Da heartbreaka

Where all the real heads at? Word up
Fuck all that bullshit
Yo! Soundman! Turn it up!

[Heather B]
Uh-huh! We call this one "Da Heartbreaka"
Common Sense*}
"Da Heartbreaka" - Niggaz is wildin out, no doubt
Common Sense*}
For those that made it alive in ninety-five
I'm bout to hit you with the nine-six shit
Common Sense*}
Believe that, rowdy niggaz up
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}

Raise yo' L's and yo' middle left finger
Heather bout to bring this whole thing to a close
Zonin those that even try to be more than local
Rugged styles and vocal be my M.O.
Shop is bein set up in yo' district and area
With the brick exterior - you can't blow it down
Focus on my side, check yo' bag at the door
I prosecute bitin bitches to the fullest of the law
There'll be no boostin, there'll be no lootin
"Glocks Down" - FUCK THAT, I'll start shootin
No trespassin, no intrudin
Wannabe hoods want my spot ruined
You betta watch yo' back or it's BLAOW
We ain't peace cause you smoke lye now
You ain't come around back when I wasn't smokin
Now all the time you wanna be tokin
I'M OPEN, open like the two-four spot
Got dimes of chocolate rhymes for the heads to get hot
Supply up your section with my illest, of weapon
I'm lettin no one in here unannounced

Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
"Da Heartbreaka"

Labels flippin on me but I'm true to the street
This greedy world don't give a FUCK how I eat
So I do my thing, survive or die
My back against the wall and they tellin me I
Can't talk to the streets no more, are they stupid?
I'm ridin through the Ave on a hollow-tip bullet
Sippin on Remi, got a magnum of Mo-e'
I only want niggaz and shorties to know me
They feel what I feel and they talk what I talk
I gotta please heads in New Jerz and New York
Move me from my post when I'm strictly East coast
Recognize the most thoroughest, word is bond
Armored clips of lyrics and stacks of steel tracks
Still slashin niggaz cause I'm on it like that
I burn excess fat with a six-pack of muscle
Now go and get Russell to hear my _Def Jam_

Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
"Da Heartbreaka"

Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
"Da Heartbreaka"

So yo, stand yo' ground, make your mark, state your claim
In this rap game, there is no room for get-overs
Make room, for winners not losers, Big Willies Big Wilmas
Who lookin to shine for nine-BREAK
Brace yourself cause it's about to be on and I can feel it
I done stopped, and folded this shit, now I'ma seal it
Shorty, you better stay clear of my direction
Servin verbal detention all day, and every day
Now who was it that said females can't rhyme? I'm witchu
That's why real niggaz got to keep this shit true
It's those Beck's and Heineken's I crack from time and time again
That keeps me rhymin, while the rest of them, be home sleepin
These drums will be hummed throughout ALL the ghetto slum
Now who the bumba claat, wan fi test me now huh?
It's a shame son, I got to be on it, like this
But it's time I let 'em know, I'll have none of this shit
"Da Heartbreaka"

Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
"Da Heartbreaka"

Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
Common Sense*}
{*"Two, three, BREAK!"*}
"Da Heartbreaka"

Common Sense*}
Common Sense*}
{*scratching fades out*}