Yo even if I just cooked up,
if money's comin give you it moist
And don't be scared to die,
I ain't give you a choice
Niggas'll try to kill you 'cause
of what they think you got
And the ambulance'll take
longer if they think you shot
Nig ga fuck the bullshit,
In front of the store rockin
Blowin sticky green grass,
So what I got a Rollie, and
and bet I get an other one tonight
bet your mother lose another son tonight
I'm clever, only time we party,
Or when they free Gotti, so
To my niggas in they cell wit a hour of rec
Or K.L., for beatin a coward to death
I feel why'all, so feel me,
Time why'all niggas come home,
Even though by then these faggots
probably be done killed me
I tell my son, keep it real,
give why'all niggas each a bill
niggas why'all know the deal, uh
Catch us at the dice game, blowin a thou
Never go in to trial, coppin out,
We could get it on, any way shape or form
Any day of the week, Styles,
It ain't hot 'less we are niggas
*We Are The Streets* and we
[Sheek] Ayo, you say fuck
I feel the same way about you bitch
Who them thuggest niggas on your team,
Without rap my nickles gleam,
Fast, niggas puff hydro and
rid o theem, who flip from wealth
I give your whole hospital room to yourself
housecalls when niggas get hit
That way the press and the cops run shit,
When it comes to thuggin it,
I even pick up your shells so
niggas camouflaged playin as bums
Pop up, shoot through the liquor bottle,
Take the bum clothes off,
buy a paper at the newsstand
Not even life insurance helpin your fam,
I'm from Yonkers motherfucker,
we bloodline no cur in our pack
You owe us dough, have it as that,
two bullets hittin your ribs
I let my son listen to B.I.G.
I won't stop til a thousand
I won't be happy til my last
yeah you could ball in a drop
I'd rather, ball in a yacht, no callin the cops
In the middle of the ocean, lettin my nine pop
Givin a dime cock, blowin away
tryin to get a wagon a day
and still throw my chain in the water
bitch I'll put my glock in your jaw
Niggas think they own a label,
You poppin that bullshit they
Slum throwin the highway, behind the wheel
Or you could do it my way, relax and chill
You could worship SP sell
Bitch I smack your mouth while
Run up in your house, then alarmin your grill
you never seen honor and will
Til you wake up in the mornin and your