Lyrics:
First off
How you gon challenge the last, when you haven't beat the first boss
You the type to do a feature, the song drop with your verse off
I
Decorate your block with red tape, foenem slidin' every day
Bunch o' hollows spittin' out the Glock
I've been servin' fiends all day, out there
It's Nathan Joseph
My Street
Listen
I used to break down
Os to 8ths, on my old estate
Hood life on the frontline, holdin' weight
But couple hours
Roller coaster ends and melts
No boredom on this ride
When the hunter game gets
Captured by the game ain't it a shame?
I'm gonna put him on the streets
I'm
walk down these same streets you ride Benz on
The type of hustle that'll never get you friend zoned (Never)
You see the Audemars buss, I take pride in
Everybody wants something that seems too hard to get
So I sit here on the street in Venice, waiting for the sun to set
Watching people live their
you wanna cushion the blow
Now stomp your fucking feet 'til you get to squishing a ho
It's pandemonium, standing O when you see him, oh
Damn, baby
[Kyleon]
I need a dime like J-Lo, Vivica Fox
Put ice in her life, and some nice invisible rocks
Kyleon, the type that never like trashy chicks
No
a quail-o then I lay low
Inside a mansion, Nokay-do
50 cents Fake-o Bay-bro
No see's in my lie
I need weed to get high
I need cheese to get by
After
are gone with the dark
I am redeemed I am filled with His Spirit
Now I know what it means to be saved
I am redeemed
I am redeemed
I am redeemed o
Yoooo
are gone with the dark
I am redeemed I am filled with His Spirit
Now I know what it means to be saved
I am redeemed
I am redeemed
I am redeemed o
Yoooo
are gone with the dark
I am redeemed I am filled with His Spirit
Now I know what it means to be saved
I am redeemed
I am redeemed
I am redeemed o
Yoooo
so much pork on it
I mean it had sausages, ham, pepperoni
All types of crazy things
And I'm from New York, I
Was a little thrown off
You know what I
Row"
Throwin' Westside, ain't no thang
We was raised off drive-bys, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B., if you be specific
We control all cash
Row"
Throwin' Westside, ain't no thang
We was raised off drive-bys, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B., if you be specific
We control all cash
Produced by: ProdByTheMan
Recorded by: 郭子翊
Mixed/Mastered by: 郭子翊/瑞
Stevv Tsui:
Legend says real prophets came from the Easside
Those who born in
We're not alone, we're three more brothers, I mean street-brothers. Now wearin'
my dyes, 'cause I'm not stupid, muther f**kers. They're out to take our
I'm gutta
Tell you one thing bout me
I'm stuck to duh greens
Like duh coke to the feens
And if by all means
Just pay me in all green
Sprite chasin
girl, I'm in the street with my niggas goin' crazy
When I say street I mean outside daily
I never took a L so I'm L-less like Tracee
Her blouse see
and mayonnaise, and we smoke always
Passing by these haters like we got all A's
[Backbone]
Say say say say Crack, what's the word on the street?
Nothing but
review
But they only hear words they already say
I'm never gonna fit within that world they feign
But
O a lion raised alone by sheep or shrew
Wouldn't
on the beat
It was cold in the streets
Worked too hard, so no label get control over me
Only control, G-O-D
That's why label me a king
That explain why imma
a kiss
So yo, so I blend in the mix
Now a day don't go by I ain't been in a chick
Eight and a half on the dope, ask Dominican Rich
Winning and rich
Yeah yeah, what, Terror Squad
From the streets to the jail cell
I mean, my niggaz is facin' death penalties and all that
Charlie Rock el D
Yeah,
.png/220px-Doja_Cat_-_Streets_(Silhouette_Remix).png "Streets")
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