Harlem Streets

Lyrics
[Intro] Killa (Killa) Dipset, man Ayo, you know I've been all over the motherfuckin' world, man But ain't no place like Harlem, man Let me break it down, man [Verse 1] We tie dynamite to the rhino type, wino might find your site Sell the information for a dime of white, that China-China (I got that white) I'm behind the diner, sellin' marijuana to a minor-minor Elder fella, lookin' for that shine? I'll shine you (Got purple) My mind designer, you a dime? I'll dine you Madonna mama, body bottle? You're fine, I'm finer (I'm better than you, bitch) Time to climb her, climb behind vagina Then I hymen-grind her 'til her mind remind her Diamonds blind her, her vision's gone, kiss her palm Turn her arm, lift her arm, notice that her wrist is raw (What's this on your arm?) Gotta get it right, ma, we gon' get along (Come on now) Said, "How?" Don't trip, but, yo, the trip is long (Here's what you do) First, visit one, day job Ticketron Nighttime, Mr. Mom, bootleg Cris' and Dom Brother Chris and Don, and they sister Carm They sell yay', you'll say, "Yay, this shit's the bomb" I'ma hit my man, tell him you my pick upon The rest, so yes, you'll be blessed to hit the intercom (Watch what you do) You know, kiss his mom (Kiss her), she gave him wisdom, charm (Be nice) And they father come from a long list of dons (That's another story) And I get it cheaper, I cop bricks like sneakers (Uh) And if the cops come, I just hit amnesia (I don't know what the fuck goin' on) But I give you an earful, it's tearful Told my mother I hustle and she said be careful [Chorus] Why I feel like I'm losin' weight? Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight? My life's based upon what I'ma do this year, cop a boat, cop a Lear Now the army suit's cute with my chocolate Airs You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair Still the scrutiny, nothing they could do to me (Do to me) I make sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls When a nigga under the world (Killa) [Verse 2] Everybody like, "Cam got the recipe now" (Everybody) Not them three girls, I got to be Destiny's Child (Gotta be me) 'Specially equities, reckon we smile Interfere tech to tech and you detect that we wild Detective deceptive, receptive of fouls Hectic, Heckler, Koch, helicopters on the set of my sales Nah, I ain't gon' be embedded in jail Talkin' to a cellmate in the bed in a jail, dog (Fuck that) I broke bread with the whale, fled from some seals (What else?) In the house, I was the head of the hills, shit (What they do?) You get a dumb ho (And what?), and get dumb happy (What we do?) Go to the gun show, get gun-happy (Who are we?) Stuck, killed, mugged, milled Tone, flint, sticks, bo, Chub's milk (What up, y'all?) Pucci, baba, but I got the hardest shells We the Midwest gun cartel, nigga (Nigga) Yeah, we'll just clap up your brains, snatch up your chains See, dog? Rap is my aim But I'm a hustler (Hustler), in my heart, trapped is the game Attached to my frame, tapped to my brain, the fact still remains (What?) It wasn't rap, it was crack that got the racks on the Range Look, dog, don't be askin' for Dame, see (Please) Playboy, I don't own that man And anyway, homeboy, you a grown-ass man, shit (Anyway) And when I rap, it ain't no punchlines (Not at all) I be on the highway dirty, crunch time (Ah) No timeouts, homeboy, just one time (Innerstate) If they find that stash box just one time (Shit) Shit, they'll put the dogs in the truck Side of the road, holdin' you up, you cold as a fuck (Fuck) They want that button, lunge it and push it Soon as they lunge it and push it (Push it), I run in the bushes (Bushes) That's how I play mine, jump over the grapevine Take my chances one on one with the canines Steel and a clip for anyone squealin' they lips (Lips) Fuck y'all if y'all ain't feelin' the Dips (Killa, Killa) [Chorus] Why I feel like I'm losin' weight? Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight? My life's based upon what I'ma do this year, cop a boat, cop a Lear Now the army suit's cute with my chocolate Airs You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair Still the scrutiny, nothing they could do to me (Do to me) I make sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls When a nigga under the world (Killa)
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Credits
- Writers
- Ty-Tracks
- Mike Post
- Cam’ron