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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil' Kim
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lil' Kim
Songwriter
Kimberly Jones
Lyrics
Roger Greene
Songwriter
Scott Storch
Songwriter
V. Carraway
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lil' Kim
Executive Producer
Scott Storch
Producer
Will Quinnell
Additional Engineer
Blake Douglas
Assistant Mixing Engineer
G. Roberson
Co-Producer
Hillary Weston
Co-Producer
Jean Nelson
Co-Producer
Christopher "The Notorious B.I.G" Wallace
Executive Producer
Craig Kallman
Executive Producer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
G. Marchese
Mixing Engineer
Dan The Man
Recording Engineer
The Notorious B.I.G.
Executive Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I come from Bed-Stuy
Where **** either do or they gon' die
Gotta keep the ratchet close by
Someone murdered, nobody seen, nobody heard it
Just another funeral service
**** will get at you
Come through shinin', they yap you
In broad daylight kidnap you
Feds get clap too
Police stay on us like tattoos
**** only grind 'cause we have to
Money is power
Sling crack, weed, and powder
Fiends come through every hour
It's all about that dollar
And we no deal with cowards
Weak lamb get devoured by the lion in the concrete jungle
The strong stand and rumble, the weak fold and crumble
It's the land of trouble
Brooklyn, home of the greatest rappers
BIG comes first then the queen comes after
[Verse 2]
Now put your lighters up (Bed-Stuy)
Put your lighters up (New York)
Put your lighters up (D.C.)
Keep putting your lighters up (Philadelphia)
Put you lighters up (Detroit)
Put your lighters up (Chi-Town)
Keep putting your lighters up
No matter where you from, put your lighters up
[Verse 3]
Now let me give you a walk through
Show you what to do and you don't do
Where it's not safe to go to
Them boys approach you, better say quick who you close to
Don't come through if **** don't know you
'Cause people is talkin', the streets is watchin'
The Ds is lurkin', stash the Nine in the garbage
The life of a hustler, the life of a gambler
Dice game kill more **** than cancer
You know who you fuck with
Brooklyn don't run, we run shit
Roll up and just bum rush shit
We don't play that out in BK, not at all
Gor pound leave your face on the wall
R-I-P in memory of
Never show thy enemies love
We get it on where we live
You better have a pass when you cross that bridge
Welcome to Brooklyn
[Verse 4]
Put your lighters up (LA)
Put your lighters up (VA)
Put your lighters up (Texas)
Keep putting your lighters up (New Orleans)
Put your lighters up (St. Louie)
Put your lighters up (ATL)
Keep putting them lighters up
No matter where you from, put your lighters up
[Verse 5]
Damn, homie, I'm so tore
And I don't think I'm ever gon' smoke no more
And I don't think I'm ever gon' drink no more
But fuck it, bartender, you can give me one more
(We in the club like)
Damn, homie, I'm so tore
(Lightin' the dutch like)
And I don't think I'm ever gon' smoke no more
(Passin' the cup like)
And I don't think I'm ever gon' drink no more
(Back at the bar like)
But fuck it, bartender, you can give me one more
[Verse 6]
See, BIG done told you, I'm the hottest bitch on the planet
Biggest sex symbol since Janet, the Zanotti bandit
Layin' in the cut like a bandage
Come through Fulton St. in the vanquish
Doin' them damage
And if you don't understand it
Then let me give it to you in Spanish
Soy la señorita mas linda del barrio
Y lo es hago afuera de espacia
Still over in Brazil, sippin' moscato
You must have forgot though
So I'ma take you back to the block, yo
Put you on to how we rock, yo
Some are boostin', 12 year olds prostitutin'
Hitmen hired for execution, there's no solution
**** still piss in the hallways
Fiends get high on 'em all day
The youth, them bang at the cops off the roof
You don't know my town is the truth
Welcome to Brooklyn
[Verse 7]
Now put your lighters up (New Jersey)
Put your lighters up (Boston)
Put your lighters up (B-More)
Keep putting your lighters up (Miami)
Put your lighters up (Puerto Rico)
Put your lighters up (Kingston, Jamaica)
Keep putting them lighters up
No matter where you from, put your lighters up
[Verse 8]
Damn, homie, I'm so tore
And I don't think I'm ever gon' smoke no more
And I don't think I'm ever gon' drink no more
But fuck it, bartender, you can give me one more
(We in the club like)
Damn, homie, I'm so tore
(Lightin' the dutch like)
And I don't think I'm ever gon' smoke no more
(Passin' the cup like)
And I don't think I'm ever gon' drink no more
(Back at the bar like)
But fuck it, bartender, you can give me one more
See
Written by: Lil' Kim, Roger Greene, Scott Storch, V. Carraway