Parole New York Salute lyrics

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Paroles M.O.P. New York Salute lyrics

Chorus: Lil' Fame



Primetime (New York, New York)

That's the place where the soldiers die (New York, New York)

That's the ghetto nigga's feelings (New York, New York)

That's the niggas that multiply (New York, New York)



[Lil' Fame] (Billy Danze)



Yo, where you from, nigga? (New York)

When you come through here (Fool, take your jewels off)

Cause these niggas is known for (Bumpin fools off)

And they takin over (If your crew's off)

You got thugs with machines, assault teams

Regulating things from Brownsville to Fort Green

Up in the Bronx where the people are fresh

People are blessed, with slugs that'll eat through your vest

Boriquas for heaters (Down to bust)

And them New Jers' niggas is down with us

I know you heard about that cop, trying to stop a felon

Got trapped, caught a slug in his cerbellum

We welcome, visitors with open arms, and firearms

And sick terrorists with bombs

And, when you slide through on the VI, son

Pack your bags and don't forget your nine and have a good time



Chorus: Billy Danze



[Billy Danze]



Get your Mac, get your gat, head for 95

Stop, pick up your dogs, tell em, "Let's ride"

Throw in some du-op shit, lean in your car

Knowing you'll hear some new O.C. or Gang Starr

It ain't to far once you into VA

Fuck with your high-beams and see who's going your way

Keep your ??, so the man won't trap you

Now leadin the convoy to the Big Apple!

Tell your homies, "Fuck that thing" dip in the left lane

Make your Honda Accord perform like a plane

You in Deleware, you almost hear

The New Jersey Turnpike, is right there (right there)

Haul-ass, make your backwheels spin

Get in the wind, your under a hundered miles in

When you reach the Lincoln Tunnel, black, hit me on my box

We on the other side of that bitch with Cognac and glocks



Chorus: Lil' Fame and Billy Danze



Home, sweet home, nigga. Home team, nigga. Home team. Your home

nigga, your home, nigga. Come on back. Come on back. Mash Out Posse.

Firing Squad. ?9, baby, ?9. Hiphop. Lock it down. One time for

your mind. Salute, salute. First Family.