Lyrics:
Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes abck to back
With Jewish Baroque
No way street - no way street
Happy to see you, you have
Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes abck to back
With Jewish Baroque
No way street - no way street
Happy to see you, you have
Dopeboy Shìt
Air Force ones and Black or White Tee
I got these niggas tryna b like me can't b like me if Yeen come from the streets
I had a lion ran it up
and thought's quicker
Cruisin' South Side streets with no
Heat and no sticker
UAC got my back, and we don't get no thicker
87 got my back, and we don't get no
cover streets where children once played
Sown seeds decay through sacred stepping stones in disarray
Where the alter used to be placed inter-changed for
I went to Staten Island, Sharon
To buy myself a mandolin
And I saw the long white dress of love
On a storefront mannequin
Big boat chuggin' back with
like O-Dog"
Tuck the deuce, deuce under the goose, boostin' y'all
Couple screws loose, cashier turns, poof, I'm gone
Seven, I heard NWA in the street
to stop the rhyme
Until the whole motherfuckin'
Book's complete
Then I write on the
Back of the sheets
I maade promise
To my brothers in street crime
We'd
else)
Fuck arguing and harvesting the feelings, yo, I'd rather be by my fucking self
(Self, self, self, self)
'Til about two AM And I call back and I
Back at'cha
How we do
Primo, Jigga-Man
History in the making
Let's go
Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH
Uh-huh-uh-uhh, uhh
I spit the murder-murder-murderous
white lies make the sidewalk cry
And you can betray with the things you say
Words won't last when you say 'em too fast
And you've been mislead by
Street, off white Lexus
Drivin' so slow, but B.K. Is from Texas
Me, I'm out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie
Now I live on billboard and I brought
niggas off, be back in the mornin'
Last time was a walk up, now we poppin' out the foreign
I'm stickin' to the script, y'all got too many stories
You
There are some on the streets
Gone living by the gun and beliefs
Some by notes of pianos
Played on and on you see
There are some on the streets
Gone
Learn the streets before you walk your path
Grind with me, let's load it back
Learn the streets before you walk your path
Grind with me, let's load
with b and even
The kid was white
But Chinese
Never did see and never speak
Running with Niggas
From different streets
They got beef but not with me
died and rappers out to dethrone me (uh)
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it's so fuckin' pitiful
First, they
Sundays Kill More Men Than Bombs the Loser
On a Night You Don't Sleep empire of Coins
All I Know on Going Back to the Street
Anthony layover
The Dogs
the front seat of that white and black
Side streets through the city, ain't nobody fucking with me
Yeah you know I had to duck 'em all
Screaming,
Back at'cha
How we do
Primo, Jigga-man
History in the making
Let's go
Uhh, uh huh uh uhh
Uh huh uh uhh, uhh
I spit the murder, murder,
Four or five niggas in a mothership
Better known as a deuce and we all wanna smother shit
Bent, front and back glass got tint
Tryin' to get our
sure
They'll know you're fibbing if you tell them you got hit by a door
But young woman, the pimp sees you as nothing but a dumb hooker
Medical
And sent it back if I ever seen a seed, man
And you don't even gotta ask
You know it by the smell
I treat every day like it's a payday
Top down, counting
Dogg, what up, mane?
Word on the streets is you ain't what you used to be
I gang bang to the fullest
A lot of niggas talk about it but they
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