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​Brooklyn To T-Neck

This song is by Das EFX and appears on the album Dead Serious (1992).

Intro/Chorus: (x4)

"The kids from Brooklyn to T-Neck" "Y'knowI'msayin?"
"Brooklyn's prime time"

Verse One: Skoob, Dray

Now ain't this some old shit, I'm bringin' it round the back like no
Question
I'm swingin' 'em with the cranes and I'm swayz like the Jetsons
I wreck shit, I biggity-blast off, duke, I'm hectic
Just look at the funk that I brung from the young and the restless
Don't test this, I'm miggity-makin' yens in Japan
Diggity-don't give a fuck 'cause I rap like Saran or
Antipersperant, I riggity-roll my punctures like a speed stick
I giggity-got the pops so kniggity-knock when you need it
So freak it, I speak it, I giggity-gots ta bring it
We're freakin a track for Jersey, yo Krazyie spring it

Speak of the devil, figgity-fuck the dumb shit, it's over
Soldier, I riggity-roll just like a bulldozer
I'm kniggity-knockin' butts and smokin' blunts that's my slogan
Check it, I wriggity-wreck more heads than Hulk Hogan
No jokin, I be's the, um, best at how I'm speakin'
I riggity-rock a show and pack 'em in like Puerto Ricans
I'm phat, I biggity-bang heads like Jerry Cooney
I'm swingin' the shit from West, pump her up to the booty
Buster, I miggity-musta stunned ya, blunder
You blewa, I speak it, I freak it, I'm super, so do a...

Verse Two: Skoob, Dray

Biggity-bang boomer, biggity-bust the lunatic rhymer
I riggity-rings more bells than Flo from Mel's Diner
I'm giggity-gettin' props because of the rhymes that I be bustin'
I'm sorry about, the condoms, sugar, you must provide the suction, 'cause
I got more greenbacks than the land of the West got sea stacks
Simplest, I'll call you Snaggle if you puss-sy gab, so
Look at me flippin the tongue, bringin' the fun, pass the Hoover
I'm swingity-swingin' the funk, bangin' her trunks in Bermuda
I dribbity-drop rungs, smoke blunts then drop my dipper
I piggity-pass the miggity-microphone to my nigga

Hot damn, higgity-here I am, check it Mister
I'm rippin the track to dreads or you're dead from my fists of
Fury, I biggity-be's the damn judge and jury
I'm cliggity-clockin G's 'cause these chumps always bore me
Yo baby, I drippity-drops nuff grammar
I'm rippity-rippin shop wit my nigga Boogie Banger
I got loot, I got knock boots to Argentina
Ya stupid, I either wanna Benz or a beamer
So take that, I'm piggity-puttin' your pipe when I'm smokin'
Y'know kid, I ripped it for fun, no jokin, 'cause ya...

Verse Three: Skoob, Dray

Well I'll be damned, higgity-here I am, check the slang, hops
I biggity-bump chicks wit them chicks from here to Bangkok
You're Bedrock, now piggity-pass the blunt, sonny
And let me piggity-pucker up and grab my nuts like Al Bundy
I glassed em, I grits em, I shiggity-shoots my jizzum
I giigity-gots more loot than your tooth got the wisdom
Believe dat, I'm criggity-crackin' skulls when I'm rowdy
I biggity-bang boots and hang loose like Jim Growlski
I miggity-makes 'em rock like Mr.Gillespie makes 'em dizzy
I piggity-pass the mic now, yo Krayzie get busy

Shit's thick, I'm quick to stick a chick wit my dick like a sniper
Type o, fella that's hyper
Active, captive, plus I'm attractive
Horse for the course, suck my drawers then I'm back, kid
Styley, rowdy, then yo I'm audi
5 wit my loot, got more troops than in Saudi
Arabia, maybe I, marry me an actress
Find her, phone her, bone her on the mattress
Tasket, tisket, Polly wanna biscuit
Figgity-fuck the cracker, I'm the rapper that rip it, 'cause yo...

Chorus to fade