Lyrics:
Streetlife (Shawnna)]
We drinkin' Henny til we flip, poppin' bottles til we sick
All ya'll haters eat a dick (yeah, uh)
Let's throw a party in this bitch,
again it's 4 AM, I'm getting drunk with all my friends
Blunt in my left hand, bottles in my right hand
Fall asleep with the bottles on my nightstand
spit
Speak my own slang-uage
Still I am the real-iest
Surrounded by Ciroc but your boy sipping Hennesey
Loves is a hospital and I was born in V.I.P.
to live?
Y'know you really can't say that ya blame niggas
Fuck bein tame, set aflame, time to aim triggers
2Pac'll spark a revolution, fuck
This out
Ay
Imma hit that blunt
Imma finish this bottle
Ya imma fuck that bitch
But I prolly wont call her
Imma do my thing
Tryna pop my collar, ya
Imma
niggas down if they clothes is tacky
Get an 18 or brick and my clothes is khaki
And the Porsche got a glass roof
The blunt got a live purple haze in it,
got my name on em
And the nigga still livin'
Spend a condo in the club
One bottle won't do
Two bottles won't do, bottles
For the whole crew, thanks
I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
my pocket
Yo heard, with my head I cock it, and rock it like that brother in colors
'Cause I want y'all to live, my crew is 2 Live, we sneakin'
get cheese and smoke green with my guys
I'm on a green diet, I don't want no french fries
I just wanna get by, I just wanna get high
I just wanna
caught with the H.I.V. now
No life to live, doc says two more years
So after the laughter, I guess comes the tears
After laughter, comes tears
After
One, two, uh
One, one
One, two, uh
One, one
M-E-T-H-O-D MAN
M-E-T-H-O-D MAN
M-E-T-H-O-D MAN
M-E-T-H-O-D MAN
Hey, you, get off my cloud
to me
When I grow up
I want to live near the sea
Crab claws and bottles of rum
That's what I'll have
Staring at the seashell
Waiting for it
rocks like Colorado
Waddle off the champagne
Cristals by the bottle
It's a damn shame what you're not though (me)
Slick like a gato, ya boy Jay-Z
My pops
the mainstream?
Meek Mill leans forward into the
Glow of his computer screen
His expression unreadable behind a
Pair of gold sunglasses
It's April, well after two
don't give a damn
Bullets soaked in oil so the Tec can't jam
Sippin on Carribean run, cocanut juice
Smokin on that chocolate stick
Open up two bottles
ville '72
Lock and load on patrol, lotta hoes on the stroll
Give me street 411 like whoop-de-whoop
Where's the cane man? How many nights I live by this
at the W
Sippin' on a malibu pine apple juice and a blunt or two
Now whachu want to do? Opportunity's right in front of you
Know you used to meetin'
poppin' the cork on crime look at the nine
Summertime in the court house ? shit whats mine
Two to four three to nine benatoned it what
We all ran coke
yo fuckin lip up
'cause money and murder is the code that I live by
Come to ya set and do a muthafuckin walk by
Deep in the game preparing for
Four
Duffle bag overflowing I'm like oh
Bottles popping but I think I'm wanting more
Think it's time you start acting like you know
Got a blunt but I
to the crib, show you how I live
Need you by my side, you could be my rib
Your friends messy, baby, I could be your bib
Fool for your love
My pretty angel, you
plan to ban music
Let the camera crew and the news in
They got the right to hear this
This the truest and the realest you'll ever get it
[Chorus 2
I need a bad bitch to blow it for me
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Not that I'm arrogant I'm just extravagant
I'm a boss player check my laminent
I got
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