The Streets

Lyrics

Chorus: The streets, yo where it happen at The streets, is where they clapping at The streets, is where the action at The streets, is where they packing at The streets, is where its cracking at The streets, bringing it back to that The streets, banging ya gat to that The streets, start hanging back in that Verse 1: My niggas ride where it's rough at Die where they bust at My murderous guys slinging them pies where they lust at Or corners where they hang most Name boast and bank toast Drive with the thing close Slide where (...) Empty clips and storm out, coke fiends are strung out Broke niggas bum out, chicks holding they gun out When back streets are taped up, bodies laying faced up Cats running with (...), the spots getting paced up The street lamps are broke now, mad bitches to bone now When niggas peep your home out and flip when they zone out Thugs bringing the street war, bust shots, let the heat roar Taking trips to B-more with bricks up in (...) off The towns where they spray shit, bust rounds and lay shit Selling pounds is a great shit, the clowns get their face slit Spots where gats pop off, shots clear the block off Slugs knock your block off and have you licking hot sauce Chorus Verse 2: On the corners where the dice roll, and clubs where the ice glow Dames get their life stole, and bleed from my life oh Niggas laying they law down, some draw with a four pound P J's are tore down, thoughts of laying hoes down (The streets) blocks where they lick shots, and rock what the fifth got Kids cop the six drop, from brick box and zip locks Towns where niggas kill at, posting where its real at Keeping gats concealed at, see a fo' you peel at Strip where you get ripped off, hot lead get licked off Fronting and your clicks off all your jewels get stripped off Sidewalks where they creep up, get locked up with a street bop Kids running with heats up, lifting both of your feets up Niggas they let their guns loose, they wild guns loose Gather up under the chin, blow a niggas shit through the sun roof Decide where they pack nines, the chrome glass shines You try to clap mine, you outta line niggas get flat lined Chorus Verse 3: Now Chickens'll get your crew laced, for rocks and a blue face Niggas giving they screwface, for the loot and the suitcase Spots that blood spills on, and dealers clock a 'mil on Murderers get their kill on, mad cats are still on Beef turning to combat, for life so they punk at Little kids they harm that, put bombs where your moms at Niggas tied up and kidnapped, and smacked up with big gats Get found with they wig cracked, leave 'em right where they live at (The streets) running for red beams, blood flowing in red streets Mad fellas with breast sceams running from the FED team Little shorties are knocked up straight giving their crouch up Juveniles decide to pee now with they ox up Crack blocks and weed spots the fiends in the deep spots Some rollin in three drops others ain't gotta beep bop Bitches that get their hoe on smoke dope on and so on Spotted nigga with glow on with dick they could blow on Chorus Outro: Don G Rap, G and Carter, BGF, Igloo Entertainment No doubt we coming through, ya know how we do Keep it moving, ya better realize Whoever don't, slugs do it for us Niggas ain't playing no games Y'all know the ruitine, y'all know the drill