Search results for 'in these streets by dj luis' Page #1,647

to be free
But still believing in broken promises
Disown the Uncle Thomas'
Keep your distance by kilometers
From the commonwealth
But I ain't one of them

They ask how I come up wit material shidd I live it
Why all my songs speak on a struggle cuz I’m in it
They probably won’t appreciate none of this

(termite)
Cause they be buggin' galore
But there's a difference between
Us brother man i'm from the motherland
Where the streets thuggin' for war
And these

I'm pissed off bitch, I got scars
They don't want me in charge
We started this with bars
Blues on me like Avatar
Someone stopped me in the street

play
It's gone get Brazy
And These just real facts
God Honest Truths
If I shoot em
In his face
Don't say I did em wrong
Don't know
What the fuck they

Skrrt

I got hella kids (hella kids), and they all up in my business
I can't do shit, man (man), these kids they really reckless
Kids always watchin'

ass back you know you far gone
Heard you got a new nigga
And he weak
Heard you got a new nigga
He ain't me
If he want some static
Leave it in

to figure out all the fees
The price on your soul is getting high in these streets
Don't ever let them take no bites for free
The grocery store is selling

branches, toss you in the pool
That you just partied up in on your vacation from school
Violent by nature don't expect me to apologize
Surgical with it.

With these bars, we's wins, in
Fit lit, out the dar- kest den
Swift with the gift, for the lo-rd I sing
The creator of all living thi-n-g-s
The one that

to city girls.
I pull up in the club, and omo mehn you need to see these girls.
please, never say that you're the best,
when your girl coming over whenever

alright, fuck you, I keep writing
And reciting these lyrics I been hiding in my head
While these lame ass niggas want me dead
They want to see me locked up

in them streets
Beep, beep, you know, Spitta got the keys
Coke for your ears, a snort
Yeah, we over here, g
Dressed like winners at
The congratulations

Gimmie the Mic

Trae

S.L.A.B., Vol. 3

2006

the booth or in the Coupe
It really don't matter, we hitting hard like May Moop
While niggaz be bragging, about the diamonds on they tooth
These

make no mistake
My lines flow like a snake, in projects I partake in
Darth Dotta the Great, clexander, no relation
Variants escape, multiverse is for

can’t see a red sign 
Don’t waste it 
Cause you can’t reset time 
No friends just a bunch dead guys 
In my pocket 
These women on me 
So these niggas

Might as well and gone lace ya shoes up,
You can talk all shit on social media but in real life you will never pull up,
Bout 5 of yall and I'm by myself,

a negro and guided by fallacy
Readin' these scribes and woke to these Pharisees
Fuck all these heathens, they turkey's and christmas trees
 
Out of line

(Forty-eight)
Four-eleven Smith niggaz, (Forty-nine)
niggaz in the streets (Fifty)
Now add these niggaz up, I'm fifty niggaz deep

[Lola Damone]
[Verse 2:]
Yo, I

the way That's what i been on
Use to ride in cars deep
Now its just me and e wen we spin
on em
Bussin serves all day tell em come out
Hit the tint on em

Soul reaper (soul reaper)
I'm his number 1 call me Ichigo
Dark skin slim fit
Nappy headed rasta
A Queen but I'm underestimated
Like Asta
By the men that

for some crumbs
Death before dishonor ain't for real, it's fake as fuck
Half a eight in the cup, fell asleep on the gwala
It get murky in these

by the games that you playing that you is a bitch
I don't fuck with no lames
You gon' get served when we come in sage
Your bitch gave me top on the top

Big L rest in peace

2 am, just got outta the bar
Headed toward my car
Me and Castro kind of blown
'cause we parked so far
Walkin' down the street