Max B - These My Streets lyrics

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Max B - These My Streets lyrics

[Hook:] Deez my streets, deez my corners f**in' with Max B n***a, you's a goner Bullets in yo' a** like heat from the sauna Jeeps run up on ya Beef with them heats and them jeeps that'll scorn ya Mom through, pop through Dress up, black suit, tend to wear condom on ya Your wife, your friends, your kids condom on ya Don't f** with the boy, I tried to warn ya [Verse 1:] Where the f** is my bread (Where it at n***a) Mu'f**a, I'll bust yo' head (Bust ya sh**) Fill ya f**in' a** up with lead Heard through the grapevine, you working for the feds (That's what I heard dog) I'm 'bout to put Harlem on the map Pop the trunk of the Jag and put your father in the back We hoggin' in the back You n***az eat real good in the front row while n***az starvin' in the back We mobbin' in the back Gun co*ked, j**els off, robbin' in the back k** a white b**h while she joggin' in the back Open up your mouth, come slob a n***a's sack, b**h Max spit hard, the n***a rap Sawed-off shotgun, revolve a n***a clap All off hot one, dissolve a n***a fat All off hot ones, resolve a n***a's a** Yeah, talk to 'em n***a [Hook] [Verse 2:] I gets high and abusive Got a brand-new hammer and I'm dyin' to use it We k** a n***a softly, get a n***a off me Slap his tray on the floor and spill a n***a coffee I got faith in this man, but will he ever cross me Will he ever get up to gone and try to off me I ain't waiting on this n***a to do me I'm a do him like Nino did to G-Money in the movie One in his head on the roof The god blow back and kick bread on the stoop Infrared on your shoot Little small dots be resemblin' the circus Dissembling your surface I don't know which emblem to purchase I'm a household name, a good friend of the Burton's And all my lil' n***az is deices Strap 'em up with C-4s and send 'em in the precinct [Hook] [Verse 3:] n***az saying Harlem ain't hot, don't get popped n***a our gun talk Cop drops from c**aine rocks Gun spark, Glock co*ked, brought it from Bangkok Turn your man into a Hulkamania tanktop (Damn) I'm a fan on the low, I like dudes Floss chain bigger like 60 ice cubes I can't predict my future But before I go back to the pen my b**h'll shoot ya I don't mean to confuse ya You got a good song, that don't mean you're the future (nope) You got a good song, think you the bomb Dogs out to fuse ya Post up with the ball, back down and use ya Post up with the.4, clap clowns, abuse 'em Gat sounds amusing, smackdown, remove 'em n***a we'll lose ya (yeah) Keep ya fresh, put your body with the brew in the cooler Holla back, yes [Hook] Yeah, tried to warn you n***az man Now y'all gotta learn the hard way f** it, 'bout to just take this sh** all off Y'all can't stop me n***a Your Boss Don Biggaveli You n***az fall back Gang Greene, Byrdgang b**h Let's get this money The game is all mines man All mine

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