Lyrics:
to park near my shit, dog
I'm in the black truck
(What, what, what, what)
I'm in the black truck
(Buck, buck, buck, buck)
Look at the rims on that
Thinkin' 187 proof nigga come take a sip
I'm sick, as fuck I'll do a drive-by in a black hearse
And leave yo in the street for homicide I think 380 burst
and I'm personal with my business (Yeah)
I'm back to back acting ratchet nigga let's get it (Well Okay)
I'm back to that street bully shit is you wit it
and ran niggaz out of town
I ripped up mics, showin wack niggaz how to sound
Still your essence, was callin
By two gunshots, at close range, your frame had
Consider this an invitation, to my Gangsta Nation
This day right here is really rough
These girls out here about the bucks
These fools out here
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
ya know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my
here
In this bullshit that we call the streets
You know? What can I say? Hip Hops been good to a nigga
I got mad love for the East coast, West
I'm just going across the street
"Shut your mouth"
"Oh no, what I do?"
"Okay turn around, turn around
Put your hands behind your back lets go, lets
I'm just going across the street
"Shut your mouth"
"Oh no, what I do?"
"Okay turn around, turn around
Put your hands behind your back lets go, lets
Looking like a million bucks! Smelling
Like a brick or raw
Went and bought a yellow Breitling
Cuz these haters piss me off throwin' all
That bullshit
angled up, rims on my ride
Fly shorty by my side, we gonna live it up
Even when I'm broke I'm still feeling like a million bucks
Chains all tangled up,
The street don't love you my nigga I had to learn that
I heard them boys talk good game but do yo verbs match
I'm in the field just like Jessie Owen on his
for the 'bucks'
Like Hakim Warrick
Nickel bag in the park, my team on it
They want it like that and the street
Is dry as a well
Hell, that's why I sell
Niggas thought I got evicted how my
Shit up in the streets
BIG but ain't nothing obese but the feast
I'm skinny cause I'm always on my feet
Gotta hustle
myself to gather strength from the inner
I gots to fight back against the powers that be
Cause the powers that be be, tryin to fight me
Standin
b
Where I'm From It Get Wicked
Them Bullets the Only Witness
State Streets Trey 6 From them Trenches
Buck it out cant leave'em limpin
Come on you
hurt if you come from out of town
But down by lord that's word
Fantastic
Show stoppin emcees
Yeah here streets is move by glocks in whos pocket
But
Back like a cobra,
I stay drunk, cause I'm a mad man
Whenever sober,
On a one man mission,
My ambition's to hold up the rap game,
While I pluck holes in
to the mortuary
Night time falls the motherfuckin' streets ain't safe
At the fuckin' club the jackers run the place
But I gotta do what I gotta do like Manson
this bullshit that we call the streets
You know? What can I say? Hip Hops been good to a nigga
I got mad love for the East coast, West coast, North
Slow down cause I can't take the heat
Slow down (Slow down baby, slow down baby)
It's wicked in these streets
Slow down, cause I can't take the heat
[Chorus]
Slow down cause I can't take the heat, slow down
(Slow down baby, slow down baby)
It's wicked in these streets
Slow down, cause I can't
magic's not here no more
And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all
Oh, oh, oh
[Chorus]
'Causе there we arе again on that little town street
You almost
okay, but I'm not fine at all
Oh, oh, oh
'Causе there we arе again on that little town street
You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me
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