Lyrics:
with five fives, real fuckin' street ballers
Identify troubles with the first quarter
But I'm on the right path
At this rate, I'll be sellin' slabs by
the streets, nigga)
Gangstas put me in they top ten
I be the same ol' G (these niggas gotta respect my shit)
Play the rules we abide by (ain't no flaws in my
Better make a wish when you see me in the streets cause I'mma be a star
I'mma be a star
Taking this thing to the next level
Victory lap for my gold medal
Know i used to stay around the way
38th street all day
Know i used to mess with lil shae
Grandma stay over on 8th
Old school chevys with the blades
is cheap you'll get popped for a fee
My money went up i put golds on my teeth
Run the streets so much calluses on my feet
Bad manners use my hands when
Verse One:
I've been cooking all my life,
Just to find, the right recipe,
Hustling since fourteen
On them streets, where them dealers be;
Taught
side that are not too nice so inform your vice that
Street is wise we run it on a cold blood building houses and castles with the gold blocks
Organizing
to peace
I'm a boss, I ain't never lose a bag for a treesh
I was down bad in the streets
I don't gang-bang, I don't think a flag is for me
How you live life
She's a bad girl, ain't another one like her in the whole world
Oooh, when I seen her in the thong
It made me hit the streets and start singing love
the skirts of Brooklyn, as I hold the pad and going fast
Gio in the back, she hold the strap, gold iPhone to match
Exclusive rhinestones intact
Got the wine we
Why these niggas wanna hate on me
Like I ain't really from the streets
I was thuggish by my lonely, ten toes, two feet
South Central Los Angeles, my
Bright lights big city
When you step into the world man shit can get gritty
You gotta look both ways when you crossing the street
In the middle
the dream
Yeah lil bitch, I made it, you can call me your new king
Oh these bitches twins, I think I want them both
I can't get distracted, the streets, I
Ad Libs
Made in America
Nineteen fifty nine
Born down by the factories
Cross the Jersey City line
Raised on radio
Just a jukebox kid
I
by City Hall found that London
Has seen an increase of 71%
In victims of serious youth violence since 2012
The Mayor says this is linked
Hungry bellies!
Bright gold on they teeth!
The windows on the ave look like sad eyes
They fix their sharp gaze on you when you pass by
And if you
around a corner from west hell
Two blocks from south shit, it was in a jail cell
The sun never shone on my side of the street, see
And only once or twice
somebody, and you give him the death-wish.
When you pull the trigger, nigga, don't miss."
Is this how you want to be
Dead on the street or locked in
stole somebody's dope and a gold rope
Now my son's on the run, he's a wanted one
Had fun then was done by a shotgun
Upstairs I cover my ears and tears
The air is turning cold outside
It's a rabbi in a brothel for the third time
The gold tooth of a broken man
A white glove in a purse down
Flame rose from the ashes should’ve seen it
Blackbird
Shot down by the phoenix
Way too much soul
For the grave to hold
My people don’t die
We just
been listening to nursery rhymes
And phonics, I was studying ebonics
Taught by the greatest Big L
Who taught me that criminal slang
Coming straight from
of the phrase paid dues
And if you wanna emcee, you better study the craft
Or you might get cut up and laughed at by some guys that kinda hate you
Now I ain't
streets
Where They dreams are crushed
Into angel dust
Fighting Devils
It's the angel in us
Just let Michael Angelo
Create the painting of us
Welcome
.png/220px-Doja_Cat_-_Streets_(Silhouette_Remix).png "Streets")
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