Lyrics:
Row
Strike! Lightning strike!
Because glass to glass, street to street
Buildings touch St. Peter's feet
From car to bar, prez to shah
Everything
Row
Strike! Lightning strike!
Because glass to glass, street to street
Buildings touch St. Peter's feet
From car to bar, prez to shah
Everything
the moments meant
U don't understand how bad that So bad that I want it
Surviving the jungle I'm hunted
And it turn into to gold when I touch it
Bitch I know
as a young'n they consigned me to blow
Witches claims why I'm worth my weight in gold
While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O
Word in the streets
the week she God
(By the week she God)
Put it in my verses
I don't need a pod
(I don't need pod)
Tell my niggas pause
When they say I'm hard (nah)
Dissing
can be cool, ima do my thing to feed the fam
Even if I die in the street
Blood spilling all atop concrete, that's all my eyes see
My feet are the words,
noticed was - pure music
Untampered with by things showbiz does older
Thugs showed us stuff
Like how to hold a plug
Juice from the street light
It almost
fake, so y'all could keep y'all praise
Said I get it when I want it, know it's gold if I touch it
Hit my mans, here's da plans, 'n you know it ain't no
knock me off my feet
Running laps around niggas I done put they ass to sleep
I count figures fuck them triggas I'm trying by myself a beach
It ain't no
the street jumped off
The car in 9-0 I was wearing all white capisque had my 501's, five dunkie rolls
Couldn't be saved by john the pope the m-a-c and k from
on the streets but it's time for the fun time
Out of line, I bust with my tech nine
Choose ya loose, I give ya the blues
Ol' pussy ass nigga with his pussy ass
happy
These MC's are happy with a G
But I'm gonna keep billing up P
'Til the government have to put a bullet
In my Boy Better Know tee
When are these
Yea i up next, hear i up next
In these streets best you stick and move
I's a shooter by the oath
Two bad bitches I can't pick and choose like fuck
Everything thing you do you gotta flip ten reload
Momma knew I was a bastard when I was two years old
Hoes and gold diamond flows the streets had
whenever I open my heart, my soul or my mouth
A touch of God reigns out
When it comes to being true, at least true to me
One thing I found, one thing I
and the steak and the potatoes and the plate
Never a dummy, rejections are funny
First years of my life I thought that food stamps were money
So by ten I was
for? What you die for? Bounce!
I got some bitches that'll ride for me, die for me (Whomp!Whomp!)
Cornbread by the ki, the language when you call
smoke make sure you want it when I give it to you, bitch
Got that Midas touch
So what I touch turn gold
They said they applying pressure
But I have yet
TO THE GROUND
Ain't nobody hot as me I'm everything you GOTTA BE!
Ain't a hustler or a g that's out grinding me in these streets
Everything I touch straight
me for all my sinnin'
I'm doin' it for my kids, I'ma keep winnin'
My son 11 years old, already talkin' millions
By the time he 18, he on his own
in them streets was down bad but
Now im poppin and every gone eat (Aye)
Go on by yourself a lil bulldozer gon' knock me off my feet
Remember we was
(Need that chain when I get out, player)
My nigga locked up with a smartphone
I'm tryna drop some babies in her jawbone
That's some street shit, we
in the poems and put on my skins
Preach what I practice and pract what I preach
Put gold on my chain and gold on my teeth
Back on my feet and I run it
nigga shit, yo
Jumped in the game feet first and I paid for my actions
Hospital stays, laid up, related to asthma
And all I knew was chase paper in
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