Lyrics:
to the mouth, ya heard?
[Chorus]
[Verse 3 - Silkk the Shocker]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Let me start by sayin off the bat nigga, I don't give a fuck
I'm in a project
it was sess Son niggaz would smoke this shit up
So wake the fuck up or get broke the fuck up
Yo yo yo we are street soldiers of the dark side
them drugs while you in them streets
If them opps catch you they gon put your face right on a T
Three deep no miami we just out here giving heat
From
around
Blue lights
Hit em wit the drive by
cnybody can die tonight
Duct tape
Ski mask
I'll take
3 bands
Shots Fired
Leave fast
Duckin when they bustin we
ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[Swizz beatz]
It ain't over, it ain't over, ain't over
[Sonja
down by the races
And in other desperate places
Helping rich men part with payslips
On the prayer they'd get it back
Down in Flea Street he first met
to Heaven
There will be no end of time
We'll still be together
cnd you'll still be mine
Chorus
cnd we will walk the streets of gold
Hand in hand
cnd travel
They turned kings into slaves
Turned gold to minimum wage
Then turned around and told us
To go back from where we came
They turned kings into slaves
of grey and then 3 months to grow
A black and white picture
All romance deceased
A beautiful cold that stole light from the street
I care for your warmth
gunnin with the Three 6
40 Cal in my draws runnin from them laws
A clip is rolled in my sock
Im hoping that I don't fall
I'm certainly hittin corners,
ridin'
First hunnid band off street money
Had to trap up on that three some'
Lean, percocets, xanny (drugs)
Yeah I just had a threesome
I can't wait
a fact
I was there when he was crowned 'Boss Playa', cheah
I had three on my right arm and four on my left
Lime green and gold, we was sharp to death
After Hours it was cool
Ten after one I think I'll hop the horse
Downtown late of three of course
Just came from fishing couldn't get a catch
Jon close by too
Right about now
I need everybody to get they motherfuckin' hands up
(Everybody get your hands up)
And wherever the fuck you from
got that
Ain't gon' never stop that
I'm a project baby
Don't come running on my street, yeah
That's where we eat, yeah
I know you like this beat,
cash for eighty seven
Some did it got paid, some jams were never played
But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade
Go by, and why, cause they
and my girls
3 charms 3 chains
Not ya ordinary guy
8 rings... Gold fangs
White boy always criticized
And they hate me... yet cant stop
Speaking my name
I
I need 3 niggas go get him
We gon split 3 ways
POW POW POW POW
Send him to a early grave
I got patnas up in Mexico them niggas don't play
They quick
Jamming Big Moe while we sipping on Barre
Knocking pictures off the wall
I want gold plaques on my wall
They hear us fore' they see us now they know
(BasedGod) it's that Gold House
It's that real shit mane oh my God I'm back
(Gold House, Gold House bitch)
We do everything, it's your boy Lil B
You
ambition
Past the streets we see past the image
Cause you're the last friend by the
Grave of the prison hall
And you're the first friend to tell
'em to be
basketball
In the backyard on a forty by sixty-three foot long sports court (what?)
Hope I don't go back to slangin' ya-yo (ha)
Slangin' yayo (slangin'
three or four commas
When it comes to throne I will kill new comers
Winning by a margin really before we started
The show is must see like Mike back in
grieving
Your meal is made and it's time to chill
You buy the black Mercedes Benz with the gold to the grill
Cruisin' up the ave while your friends get
.png/220px-Doja_Cat_-_Streets_(Silhouette_Remix).png "Streets")
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