Lyrics:
of the street
Yeah, light on portrait and the light in your face
And you'll be looking for another pretty place
Baby, this side of the street
Well, keep
Rolex crowns, I emboss your wrist
The minimums, niggas ain't synonyms
Dual exhausts, driving flying saucers
Diamond crosses, hang Takashi portraits
Saw you sitting across the street
Painting portraits and landscapes all week
Had to see what the fuss was about
How could someone draw such a big
Tell me again
How can you help
Poor babies on the street?
Your portrait hangs on the wall
At heaven's feet
Come holy men
What do you know?
What's makin'
dancin' more)
Dancin' more, dancin' more, dancin' more, dancin' more
Out on the street, you're in my dreams, wouldn't dare to embrace you
(Dancin' more,
d'mes potos j'te refait le portrait
Éduquer par la Streets on a pas de pitié
Touche un d'mes potos j'te refait le portrait
La thune la beuh on ne veut que
square
Like portrait mode
The streets is dangerous
But I can't act like I aint got flaws
Hustlers came to me with crack
And I supported they cause
I hope
a person he'd once perceived
Proceeding his paint and packs of pencils, while he
Was working with passion
And passing high-street shoppers paid him
Portrait
Like heavenly angels
I vogue in the streets
Taking pics in portrait of
All of my angles
Presence is key
You see me walk in the room
Serving you all
cache un gentil
Petit bonhomme avec un swagg phénoménal normal que j’dégomme, J’´t’informe j’monterai avec sur le podium Si ta le portrait de la street
A bullet can make you famous
Try to portrait picture perfectly
Streets the color burgundy
But this type of violence needs nobody in emergency
Speak with
about a stash
Insulate the sheetrock with cash
N**** my walls green
Look look
Install the Safe behind the family portrait
Took the street risk now
Tambourine Tim juggled cats on the metro line
While Mona painted portraits on discarded street signs
Funky Freddy strummed his spoons, a sidewalk
nigga, plus I get money, don't need a deal
My words can paint a portrait up out the streets, because it's real
It's madd life, militia, paper over
on a portrait
Married to the streets
But I ain't ready to divorce it
Ain't tricking on no bitch
But I'll pay for that abortion
I can't leave this bitch alone
Now this is me, created with the heat
On the sweet tweet R and B beat
Where the rap zone's on the streets to compete
We got our portrait click with
living the high-life
Pilolo that was my life
Hide and seek, playing football in the streets
Tatale, kelewele and beans
Painting portraits of our culture
The sun starts to rise on a new day)
(She walks forlornly along the streets
Suddenly she sees the
Pawnbroker's shop there is Laura's
Portrait she stops
Her
Portrait of a killer
The first suspect: the mind of Jeffrey Dahmer
Entered the scene and caused drama
Born in Milwaukee in 1960
As a child, studied
Daddy-O slipped me some cause my breath stank
White gold, but no accounts in Swiss banks
Think tanks once rolled on the city streets
I used to meet your
The photographer's impatient as the train pulls out of the station,
And you're heading further south than I thought you'd ever go.
The streets
What you would say
Head to the water after work ends
Everything feels so nice
I think of Buell Street
And filling bird seed
And I'm alright
A chance
I started sellin' dope at a early ass age,
I had to make the money cause I had to make the pay,
Charlie McNuddy taught me to rose to the streets,
How
got one book
To see me through my flight
But when I get to Paris
We'll paint all our portraits
In brush-strokes of yellow
And christen the canvas
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