Lyrics:
in a black and white the capacity is two.
We're not alone, we're three more brothers, I mean street-brothers.
Now wearin' my dyes, 'cause I'm not
a clean record
Gave him the lane to go from street coke
To the good life of the champagne it's
Also a play on how he
Makes money off records, his albums
Are
Street
Who call themselves The Fugs
In April
They record by Harry Smith doing the
Punkiest songs yet to exist
Lo-fi noisy shit about poetry, sex and drugs
joint right here?
How many people recognize this song?
This shit right here is called "You Got Me", ya nawmean?
It's on our album which is called
The competition checks and checks
And keeps checkin'
They get the album
Take it home
And start sweatin'
Why? well it's simple
To them it's kind of vital
radio stations say
They not going to play my music
Uh well I'm going to sell it on the streets
In the boot of my car man
A brother has got get to get
smokin big dope
All of my niggas really bout it
Sisters and brothers really bout it
Aunties and unkles really bout it
No others can't trust em we want
to the club
He coming out with bag in
Hold up let me thank my brother
I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for these two
They sittin' next to me they had
A mill
dumb pricks wanna see me leave but we're staying
I need to drop my album for the streets, what we saying
Let me drop it for the people
Heard the first
Street, Ben Jury
Shout out to Lamessie and Amanda, from LMAC
Down in Singapore, (Voss!), Yeah, my lil' brother Dano, Dano West, As-salamu alaykum
(Street
And crosses state lines
One thing that I noticed
People judgin while you takin time
But them bein so bent
Won't play a role in how I'm shapin mine
Yeah
It's
Hope you remember that lil nigga came from Franklin street the home of
That lil Ishan boy from Salem- dropped an album called it oba
Had his family broke
flip flops, nigga (gotta light one up, ah)
Takin' showers in flip flops, nigga
Uh, I seen street niggas speakin' blasphemy (huh)
Like before rap, I
your face
Takin' everything 'cause it all goes away
And it all falls down
That's what the kids used to say
And it all falls down
That's what the kids
(Banger)
What up, nephew? Man, you know what it is
I wanna start this jawn just by sayin' man, I'm so proud of you, man
But after that, it's all
we not with it
All the opps takin' cover, got caught slippin'
Go spin they block with them cutters, we not missin'
Man, I miss the old streets
the ground my father walked upon.
My brother and I were a strange mixture,
as different as daylight and dark.
Looking back, it's hard to imagine we came from
shit whenever there's a camera around
And it's like he say that shit without no hesitation
His friends need to make sure he takin' his medication (help
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
The brothers, the brothers
Yeah check it out now
Now I'm the baby in the family
And I got three siblings
Three older brothers and we trying to make a living
So
Catch a sucker in my way, and I'm slayin'
Takin' no shorts, so I'm vital sign
You can tell by my lines that I'm gettin' mines
in eighty-nine, because I'm
not playin', understand what I'm sayin'
Catch a sucker in my way, and I'm slayin'
Takin' no shorts, so I'm vital sign
You can tell by my lines that
Tell me something good
Chaka Khan
Chillin' in the hood every time Messiah drop a song
"He's too good for the streets"
No, you got it wrong
I'm only this
your hand holding yo dick
When you fuck the streets, just make sure the road is paved
Hustlers live by a code, and they swore to take it to their grave
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