LYRICS...
Welcome to the lyrical laboratory. This is an original rap poem written entirely from scratch, crafted in the deep, aggressive, and iconic Brooklyn Drill style of the legendary Pop Smoke. Titled "PULL UP", these lyrics deliver raw street storytelling, heavy 808 slide concepts, and classic Woo ad-libs. Whether you are a rapper looking for a heavy drill flow inspiration, a producer searching for a New York concept, or a fan of the eternal king of drill, feel free to use these bars to ignite your creativity.
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(INTRO)
(Bruit strident d'un frottement de pneus de luxe... Une prod Brooklyn Drill hyper agressive démarre avec des claps saccadés et des énormes 808 slides)
(Woo! Big Woo!)
Yeah, you know what time it is, boy.
Flossin' in the night, heavy tool on my side.
(Grrrrah!)
They talk tough till we pull up on 'em.
Look.
(VERSE 1)
Pull up in a black truck, smoking on the best product (Woo!),
N****s talking real loud till they get a head shot.
I'm a big boy, moving through the New York streets,
Making all the haters freeze when they hear the heavy beats.
(Grrrrah!)
Christian Dior on my chest, diamonds in the dark,
We don't do no internet talk, we just leave a mark.
Got the kichta in the vault, turning up the heavy score,
They wanted me to fall but I'm asking for some more!
(STOOOPID!)
Riding with the shooters, yeah we stepping in the place,
Put a red laser strictly right inside your face.
(Woo!)
From Brooklyn to the world, yeah the legacy is gold,
The realest fucking story that the ghetto ever told.
(CHORUS)
(Flow ultra-grave et lourd, ad-libs hurlés derrière)
PULL UP! We don't care about your little gang!
(Never!)
Hear the blicky in the dark, hear the heavy bang!
(Grrrrah!)
Woo back, baby! Look at all the chains I rock,
We controlling every corner, we blocking the whole block!
(Big Woo!)
(VERSE 2)
(La basse Drill glisse encore plus bas, le rythme devient ultra-lourd)
They know my voice, they know the texture of the track,
Once we step inside the room, there is no turning back.
(No!)
Mike Amiri denim, yeah I'm fresh out the store,
I put my city on the map, now they screaming for some more.
(Screech!)
You a fake thug, playing with the dangerous fire,
I'm a real giant, you can never match the wire.
Keep the cameras flashing, keep the simulation bright,
We turning minor shadows into interstellar light.
(Yeah!)
So tell 'em pull up if they really want the fight,
The Big Woo is standing tall through the endless night.
(CHORUS)
PULL UP! We don't care about your little gang!
(Never!)
Hear the blicky in the dark, hear the heavy bang!
(Grrrrah!)
Woo back, baby! Look at all the chains I rock,
We controlling every corner, we blocking the whole block!
(OUTRO)
(La basse s'estompe lentement, seule la mélodie sombre de la Drill continue avec de l'écho)
Yeah... PULL UP.
Big Woo.
Flossin' till the end, you know?
Can't forget the roots.
Grrrrah.
(Bruit d'un coup de feu lourd et sec... Grand silence)
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