Lyrics:
John Gotti
Damn... It's so much pain flowing through my veins
Missing my big bro Relo
Hear him saying "Do yo thang"
(Do ya thang, Deezy)
I gotchu bro,
Now I be, in the club hollerin' at hoes like, "Hey now"
Sippin' Everglo, y'all want me to say now
So on the streets and on the block since Twista (red
the street and got hit by an ambulance and left for dead, but he wasn't dead yet, he was just lying in the curb, and pigeons came along and ate his eyes,
nigga
Street nigga, it’s beef nigga we eat niggaz
Redrum, shotgun, flee flicker.
My street niggaz my street niggaz
My street niggaz, my street
nigga
Street nigga, it's beef nigga we eat niggaz
Redrum, shotgun, flee flicker.
My street niggaz my street niggaz
My street niggaz, my street
warned them now they surely scared of us
seriously we party stay out the streets or face the territory
cowards of the hour sickened by my tower
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
you witness how I got it with da pipe
8balls grinding hard, till den birds take flight
Da life of Mr.Westbank, ah day in da life
Da Streets got a hold
you witness how I got it with da pipe
8balls grinding hard, till den birds take flight
Da life of Mr.Westbank, ah day in da life
Da Streets got a hold
On the road like, why?
On the grind I try
Apple fritter, I'm fried
Street loud don't get me high
Meantime in the studio, why?
No time it'll get me by
John Q. Congress became a man
In the mean streets of Happyburb
Spent his allowance at Dairy Queen
Jumped his Stingray off the curb
Rose to fame
Survival of the fittest, fuck it life or death
With ill maneuvers, rapper slash producer
Putting it down with e-dub, in the sewer
[Books]
Some
gate
With the wordplay
Hot Nik shoot you with the gift
Its your birthday
God hatin' ugly in the worst way
Fuck 'em like the Earth say
It’s 2 o’clock in the morning.
Lemme take you on a ride, I wonna tell ya’ll a story
I look back reminiscing all the times I was doubted.
How folks
straight-jacket.
Just like 22nd Street,
They got me by my neck and feet.
Pressures building, can't take more.
My headaches charge, earaches roar.
In this pain
to jail cus' that shit is a dub
Too much In store for me, can't fuck it up
I see lots of faces but I remember him
They stole from my brother, they stomped
[Verse 1: Yung Honcho]
I don’t need y’all for shit
couple hundred on my feet now that's a walking lick
I made a lot off in these streets no it wasn’t
slugs through you
We search 'em 'fore they come in the trap, might have a bug on 'em (huh?)
He's a walking dead man, don't know it, he got a dub on him
had enough of the stuff
Oh, you know it's got to do you in
Remember John John
How mama stayed awake all night
The night they brought him in
She
loaded it up by the round
Knock them out by the round, It's bodybags in the ground
I ain't no shooter, got plenty of shooters always in numbers that how
in these streets
Vlone I need no friends
I refuse to get to comfy I can't fall in love again
I refuse to be no dub i'm not no sucker, come again
And I
.
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by
.
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by
G, now what you think that stand fo?
I'm gangsta on the streets and I keep it Crippin' in the studio
Who else be up late night ready to jack like
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