Songtext I luv M.O.P.

I luv

Aaaaaaaaah!
Chorus: Freddie Foxxx
What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest'
*repeat*
[Lil' Fame]
Can't stop the love! I know you sayin I'ma young nigga
Don't get it fucked up cause I move with them thug niggas
From old ? to life we straight sparkin light
Bring light to the darkest nights
(M) Blast (O) Blast, P in your area
Make a move and them cats might bury ya
Now that your trapped and your fuckin with thugs
Let me tell your punk ass what I love
I love to see motherfuckers, that show no love
And start speakin out like a bitch when you catch em in the club
I love, when a slug cat shut down
And then try to post up when they damn near cut his ass down
I love, trying to reach all parts of the map
On a Ninja, with a big Buddha bitch on a back
I love, cats that rap and still drip checks
Like your man Lil' Fame, Bill Danze and triple X
Chorus
[Billy Danze]
Aiyyo, you know what I love (What's that?)
It's when motherfuckers assume
That they ass can't get popped at 12 o'clock in the afternoon
I got the balls to come through your walls, like (Boooom!)
Have an orgasm every time I clear the fuckin room
(Niggas is gone) Nah, not just yet
I need to see you son of a bitches sweat
(I love) What I got, son, my shit is prop', son
With Prem' in the drivin seat and Freddie Foxxx ridin shotgun
(Stop son!) Here is the ultimate
Somethin I love is when thugs be bumpin my shit
(I love) Niggas with heat, (I love) niggas that's deep
Niggas that regulate the streets (sho' nuff)
Mic blessin, Smith and Wessun caressin
(First Family) With the Desert Storm impression
The lesson: I advise if your not ready to ride
on the homicide side, nigga slide
Chorus
[Freddie Foxxx]
I love beats that are hardcore, dirty and raw
I love takin niggas burners when they scared to draw
I love plottin on my enemies, I love to attack
I love beatin niggas down when they rhymes is whack
I love seeing emcees struggle to make
themselves something that us real niggas love to hate
It's too late, I love my Ninas and I love my ?fours?
Blowin holes through the project doors in ?knive wars?, nigga
I love the feeling, and the rush that I get
From 'Sam? run the Rolex watch with the diamond begets
I love, how my life was intact without a deal
How I kept the newest chromes on my automobile
I love the fact that rappers make the dough, without a flow
Soft niggas, that I stain, like piss in the snow
I love the fact that I survived through the roughest of times
And break the mic when I want, with the roughest of rhymes
Its a luxury to see me emcee
Its so hard, this lyrical brutality, feed's a nigga's mentality
I love, when you niggas claim to be great
knowin your mob ain't never lettin shit, what the fuck is this?
Niggas bustin shots on New York, I get my vest on
Twenty rhyme clips in my mic, I get my bless on
Loan soldier standin on the front line, I fear none
Excuses that you give me for your lyrics, I hear none
You niggs ain't no real emcee's
You Sam Goody ass niggas can't write without suckin down trees
So I love, laughin at you niggas, while you clappin at me
I split your head shot from your man, while he's slappin at me
I feel the hits from your rounds
Your hollowpoints make a nigga wobble, but I won't fall down
*echoes*
[Lil' Fame]
Yeah, you motherfuckers see it, come on!
Chorus
[Freddie Foxxx]
Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, for all them sucka ass niggas that don't know, when
I crawl up out the whole, and I got M.O.P. with me, baby, ain't nowhere
you can run (to the life) ain't nowhere you can hide. With hot slugs at
both sides. Split your back open wide. Niggas from the East Side