Streets Don’t Love U

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Geah, it's 187 'cause I'm back on the block Quick to shoot first wit' the gat that stay cocked It's real gangsta shit, nigga, it's on lock West Coast Compton, the town that rock Follow the cracked up, roll down the Compton block Not school, but I'm the motherfuckin' neighborhood jock Whether MTV, rock or jock ya in But the team colors sported, boy, blue or flame My name not household, I ain't Pac But on the underground, fool, yeah, I'm on top I don't play for the mainstream Fuck around, have you playin wit' the red beam Fuck around, few shots leave ya gang green Slumped over, front seat wit' a cold lean Fa sho, I be first in line to start static wit' y'all Have ya mama at the pad awaiting the call West Coast, Westside, Eastside, we slide Anywhere y'all want it, Nowhere to hide Geah [Hook] Creep wit' the sleeper, wit' the locust look up on my face You six feet deeper, and you can't wake, rain drops fallin' These streets don't love you, but they can love you They follow me though [Verse 2] Beef ain't a DVD, it's automatic I'm gone off the hood life, so call me an addict In the land where girls got plastic tits Niggas wit' plastic grips ready to start shit Who the fuck y'all wit'? Man, where y'all from? Hollows quickly follow the Philly stomp How come y'all tryin' to play the thug act? Just the way that a copycat gon' react And the impact when the chambers slide back In-depth description of the carjack And you know that tattoo when the arm's raised The shots penetrate you and they don't graze I just blaze, just like school days I run wit' a frat of boys, we so crazed Creepin', so amazing, we a little Iraq when we start engagin' Any nigga I smack, my machine is ragin' Gun tucked when I gotta fuckin' rhyme on stage, man [Hook] [Verse 3] Been under the hood spell for so damn long My life in the streets just can't be wrong I'm hardcore, motherfucker, bitch ate my scrote I'm old school like a pimp, likely to trip No chip on ya shoulder, I knock it off Every motherfuckin' rhyme you rock is soft Burn, weak niggas, burn Wannabe O.G., but you can't earn Wanna see us flee, but you gon' learn Just wait, sky free, see the wheels turn Hustlas, ridas, hoes, ex-cons Grown Westside boys like Lil' Jon I'mma bang Compton 'til the break of dawn Late night hype, mean bodies dead on the lawn On my ass [???], boy, sure ain't strong But I'll jack for ya jewels and head straight to the pawn Geah [Hook]