[Intro: C-Rayz Walz] Street. Talk. Street [Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz] With each thought, my street talk express rhythm in hindsight In deep breath, the day could be d**h living a night life This is speech to the heat of the beat and how it burns Cowards learn tricks and chicks be on E! like Howard Stern Now it's earned. World turns—it's just the days of our lives Forsaken, now eyes losing vision as we pray to the sky Your boy said, “The streets is watching.” ‘Cause we flow, they talking My rhymes think they got a father—they don't know they orphans A lone man theory—only those from my tribe hear me Lonely souls roam on the crossroads—they die near me So take your time when you tasting the wine, tracing the lines ‘Cause the joys of bliss, like this, might be erasing your mind So gloat from within, spit lead, explode with the pen (They sin) From the beginning, you already know it's the end If the beat bumping ba** in your face, pardon me—peace I know it's hard, but stroll with the gods on this Odyssey street [Hook: Ryan Perfect] (x2) Ayyo, the streets what I talk. Talk what I see See what I live. Live what I be. Being from Queens Queens to LA, kids who live seen what I be I talk to the streets. The streets talk to me [Verse 2: Ryan Perfect] (Check it). Yeah. Yo. I raise hell like I was Satan's father The brother of God can fight the fate of Karma—wait! Laser revolver fade your tomorrow. Stand real far away From the drama. Pray to me mama is what I ask from y'all My chain's a halo of gold no longer levitating, fallen Watching the way that it glow is sure to hurt your face, you know Think daughters angelic, so my n***as circulating The load in my piece'll show my chest—embrace it Every thought is a prequel. Write words and spit sequels I promise I'll never give you nothing feeble It's not me thieving you, dog—it's your peoples Matter fact, it's you for believing they believe in you When you're raping yourself, thinking “I believe it's Sue I believe it's true.” You sound like who you listen to [Hook: Ryan Perfect] (x2) Ayyo, the streets what I talk. Talk what I see See what I live. Live what I be. Being from Queens Queens to LA, kids who live seen what I be I talk to the streets. The streets talk to me [Verse 3: Wordsworth] Yo, yo, ayyo, the streets is what I talk. I see the weakness in your walk The deepness of my thoughts display the ways we speaking in New York Talk what I see: happiness and misery Handcuffing—hoping these cops don't plant nothing when they pat, frisking me Rap visibly—picture what you hear. Description so you aware Whispers in ears get you convicted to the chair We don't see our vision's impaired—we conflicted by kicks and some gear So we can appear to look drinks in despair And the globe is controlled by the most richest And on this road to success, there's some toll bridges No shortcuts—nothing less, you gotta go the distance You gotta try to get across, but when that road is finished... (Uh huh) Words symbolizes a pilot that win dependence—got it It coincides with the music in your environment It's so intense when I inscribe it (That what?) That you got your own private movie screening when you close your eyelids