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will tell - throw it up كلمات الأغنية

[hook: jean grae] (x2)
run up, b-mrush
brooklyn, throw your guns up
bronx and shaolin uptown, down to queens
everybody, throw your guns up!

[verse 1: i-see-on]
we from brooknam to the day that we d.o.a
we from brookmam—(we don’t play)—we want cheddar
nachos, frito, lays. hold tight—heat gonna spray
duck down. brooklyn niggas bust rounds
bx style or bucktown, uptown or downtown
five boroughs that thoroughly rep
brooklyn bridge, verrazano, madison square
yankees stadium, jfk, gats in the air
all my niggas, throw your gats in the air. word up
brooklyn niggas, throw your gats in the air. throw it up

[hook: jean grae] (x2)
run up, b-mrush
brooklyn, throw your guns up
bronx and shaolin uptown, down to queens
everybody, throw your guns up!

[verse 2: pumpkinhead]
i run up with my guns up towards the sky
lit like a roman candle on the fourth of july
bk, qu. you know, all of those guys
shaolin and uptown that put four in your ride
bx trees familiar, get all of us high
fuck circle line—i take you on a tour through ny
look, there goes my duns on the corner, playing rummy
look, here’s goes my gun tall, but give me your money
now i could buy trees, roll it, dip it in honey
and how i say, “please,” and putting six in your tummy
put your guns up whether you crip or you bl–dy
brooklyn ac’ b-mrush with our hands tucked like al bundy

[hook: jean grae] (x2)
run up, b-mrush
brooklyn, throw your guns up
bronx and shaolin uptown, down to queens
everybody, throw your guns up!

[verse 3: mr. metaphor]
if you a 2-1-2 or a 7-1-8
nyc up to ny state
throw your guns up, put your two fingers and your thumbs up
we from the land of the gutters and the dump trucks
br-ss knuckles, night sticks and nunchucks
street crime, transit cops, and drug busts
the 5-o’s, you can’t stop the b-mrush
brooklyn ac’ do it uncut and untouched

[hook: jean grae] (x2)
run up, b-mrush
brooklyn, throw your guns up
bronx and shaolin uptown, down to queens
everybody, throw your guns up!

[verse 4: block mccloud]
i’m brooknam and it shows in my flows and my style
dirty gow-n-s c-n-l, uptown to roosevelt isle
pick up the rocks of the white in washington heights
at grand concourse, you dance with the mamis all night
all-city, all-boroughs who left racks of marlboro
your type soft—nigga, you ain’t from wyckoff
get wiped off the face of the planet. brooklyn
step in queensbridge and leave shooken with your beef tooken
rolled through van duzer in a land cruiser
made a hard mill, but still get the l’s from park hill
we spark still. bk niggas hard to k!ll
hold a 43 while spit squad guard the ‘ville
it’s k!ll or be k!lled in the city we live in
giuliani’s kkk—block’s vote: send him to prison

[hook: jean grae] (x4)
run up, b-mrush
brooklyn, throw your guns up
bronx and shaolin uptown, down to queens
everybody, throw your guns up!

- will tell

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