I love my microphone clear, ice cold beer, premiere
My news and sweet, nothing''s in ya ear
I treat them like they outta be treated
Like they want their cutty licked
They better get their girlfriend to come eat it
I don''t tongue-twa, I rock nonstop
Hip hop got me locked, competition get props
The bar, you can front it, got rhymes by the hundred
New York City creepin it, delightedly blunted
I love to stay high, Pop pass the la
Nigga caught a black eye for tellin the white lie
Don''t even try or you just might die for real
All ya ally cat niggas gotta fry
Makin it hard for me and my squad
Doin shit I can''t disregard, my nigga just got scarred for life
Do ya thing, be the men, be mice
Hiddin behind mics, with lyrics that sound nice
Softer than a milk shake, whole image is fake
I use they ass for bait, throw them in a lake
Let the crab snap em, my enemies clap ''em
Some bring lips abyss I feel it''s ("Time for some action!"- B-Real)
Like a flick, loaded with guns
Better yet like a chick, who posses big buns
I stay screamin on duns, shinin with my sons
Runnin up in lady, bangin them like tums

Chorus: Pop Da Brown Hornet (Down Low Recka)
You know you wanna ride with us (No doubt)
Take note before we bust (We pullin out)
Follow me up son (Follow me up son) follow me up
(follow me up)
Follow, follow, follow me up son

[Down Low Recka]
Let me tell ya somethin, don''t fall for the foolery
Hip hop ain''t live like it used it be, one step from the eulogy
The future looks promisin though, got team reunited
And god risin, GP''s set to blow
The pyramid complete, been done, I''ma start barkin on ya tricks for fun
Ya currency holdin, this is in ya pockets swollen
Lookin dead into the light, and can''t see where ya goin
Pull it reversal, you better stop beatin hip hop before it hurts you
These laws is universal
From my home to your home, from Cairo to Rome
I''m here to the Twilight Zone, the facts roam
I remember when I used to sit back, smokin a bone
Wonderin if I''mma blaze hip hop before it''s gone
Brothers is bustin at rap with macks like drome
Niggas livin in glass labs, throwin stones
I''m walkin over light shine on, my back to it
Eyes peeled, so I can see when I go thru it
Y''all hoes ain''t all about nothin
Cuz you don''t fear, don''t say shit and just keep doin it

Chorus

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
You just above average, I''m superstar status
Microphone savage, devour the baddest
Ghetto fabulous, in hip hop madness
Before I''m done with this, I''ll be sittin on mad cabbage
At times I''m on the low, at times I''m in ya face
Occupy the time slot, you occupy space
You gettin outta line boy, stay in your place
The wifey in my kitchen, beggin me to taste
The way she chef it up, should I toss that ass up?
You treat her like a queen, Pop treat her like a slut
It''s all about a nut, cuz love don''t give a fuck
Finger in the butt, she know to keep her mouth shut
Check it, let me proceed I''m trippin off weed
A lot of cats are trippin off jealously and greed
Can''t make it on the else, so they sit around and plot
Five hundred in they pot, so case around from rot
There''s a thin line between failure and success
It''s like we uptown, know I always got it fresh
Head throbbin G, and off like a bank robber
Meditate, get up, run thru the potter
Only cuz I gotta, I take MC''s out
You thought I was a shark, cut, took the wrong route
Now you assed out nowhere to be found
Fuckin with Pop Da Brown, baby

Chorus