Lyrics:
busy!
[Chino XL]
I be the receiver, of strange mind patterns
No type of compassion, endless my though process
hits like a dark cavern, I was bred
Towers and tunnels, views and valleys, waves
Then pigs, "What streets you from, son?"
Planet Earth
And ain't scared of no Mars Attack
What type of bars
Street, Hillside type
(This is what we do, all day like this nigga!)
Mobb shit now!
(Get this shit crackin' den nigga!)
It's a drought on
(Fuck now!)
that means we're
Near our deadline, so take your mind out of the fucking fed time
Listen to the brother Dres, I says if only our records sold in
patnas
She show up to the ho-
Telly, I'ma tell her to do her thing and go
Back, back, back
Back like Hawk and that boy Lil O'
Remoteless type of vehicles
Yo
Dunn you fam to me, and only family
That can get that close to me, keep it type strong
Blowing green that's keeping us going
Island hopping
gonna ride O.B.E we the family it will never die
I’m just stuck in a different type of zone
You niggas ain’t ready just to see what I own
I’m smoking
ass up
I'ma get in the other car"
"Aight"
If there's beef cock it and dump it
The drama really means nothin' to me
I'll ride by and blow ya
ass up
I'ma get in the other car"
"Aight"
If there's beef cock it and dump it
The drama really means nothin' to me
I'll ride by and blow ya
237 I'm comin' from 237
I've been trappin' 2 4 7 Hardboi Type and I'm straight from heaven
237 I'm comin' from 2 3 7
I've been trappin' 2 4 7 Hardboi
bring a nigga in know his blood type
What's your blood type?
Yo a-alike, that mean true to the game
West coast thugs, my niggas like one and the same
you
Mean? She shouts it out all of the time"
Y'all don't want me to rep
Y'all y'all don't hear when
I rep y'all cause y'all
Be dick-riding everybody
base
Anytime and place
What? Like Janet, I slam kids
Harder than Sha-quille O'neal down to the masses
I take crews back to, um, hiphop classes
Because
Hot shit (hot shit)
Mmm, I'm goin' down, down, baby
Your street in a Range Rover (come on)
Street sweeper baby, cocked, ready to let it go (hot
I was seven years old at my grandparents' breakfast table
It was ten o'clock in the morning and I was having a bowl of cereal
And my grandfather
comprendí
Yo tengo el poder, la magia está en mi
No descansaré hasta ver en type beats
El nombre del Don Delion, you know what I mean?
Y así fue como lo
Niggas that's in sports
All this type of shit as heroes
They might look at motherfuckin Muhammed Ali
Yah know Sugar Ray Leanord, Mike Tyson, but me..
Hot shit (hot shit)
Mmm, I'm goin' down, down, baby, your street in a Range Rover (come on)
Street sweeper baby, cocked, ready to let it go (hot
'em
We always solve 'em, like
Man, it's kinda crazy thinking about it though
Like so much has happened yo, and I mean shit, by the time y'all are
for all types of ages
All types of phrases, I been to mad places
I guess that means that I been around
I got the ear for the sound, the sound
to the streets of Rome
Too Damn Hype led by Jeff and the Prince
You're spending dollars and cents
We're spending pounds and pence
And yens and rubels and marks,
the glovebox
Same niggas that'll rob you love L.O.X. (Uh)
All types of burners, even snub Glocks (uh)
Nice size TECs you could carry in your sweats (uh)
the glovebox
Same niggas that'll rob you love L.O.X. (Uh)
All types of burners, even snub Glocks (uh)
Nice size TECs you could carry in your sweats (uh)
respect, so everybody salute
And by the way Backspin, is my attribute
You may or may not, know who I am
But frankly my dear.. I don't give a damn!
You
.png/220px-Doja_Cat_-_Streets_(Silhouette_Remix).png "Streets")
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