Smitty - Streetn***az lyrics

[Intro: DJ KaySlay] It's that street n***a sh**!!! Smitty!!! Jae Millz!!! Mike Beck!!! Kayslay!!! Greg Street!!! Y'all know what the f** it is!!! Let's! Go! [Verse 1: Smitty] This is nothin new to me, life ain't what it used to be Now it's all gun co*ked, scared a n***a truthfully co*k, black, a**ault, fast Got, cash, cop, crash And y'all full of sh** keep the heart full of clips Yo' pot his pot keep the spot full of bricks No fame no game I pull a b**h New whip blue six same color crip And y'all lame n***as hear we on some other sh** Off white soft white as long as it's bu*ter sh** Burn, yay, you earn, you straight You earn, we take, you hungry, we ate No stress one sack already done that Call my weight Jordan (Why) because it come back Five five for the ounce spit one stack co*k that drop that n***a that's a comeback Need a new hustle already done rap Tired of the same cash so I called Dame Dash My CD, is real, it's Smitty and Millz Live from the ghetto why I never let go [Verse 2: Jae Millz] (DJ KaySlay) Papa wasn't never here O.G.'s made me grown Mama let her baby roam and now baby holdin chrome It don't matter who you name he can't flow like me I petty might be aight yeah but he ain't dope as me If you been around fam I know you notice me Yes! One hand in the air one on the chest It's Mr. wanna what some call me one of the best And if they don't, it must be cause they want it to deaf Everybody talk bullets to you give it one of them fresh One wrong punchline will get you one through ya vest And you ain't gotta be Hines Ward to catch Somethin from thirty yards out f** what ya bars 'bout We shootin n***as like Reggie Miller did Nah I ain't Scarface homey I'm worst, I'll k** your kids Who doubtin me I'll do your newborn like Mike did his lil' a** from the balcony Corny industry n***as hatin and reroutin me But I'm a wolverine I was raised where the moutains be Slept in the dungeon the trainin be the same Sylvestor Stallone did before he fought Dolph Lundred n***a yous a pumpkin Smitty spark the lama And n***a f** the frontin till the cats believe that I'm a be the (Street n**ga!!!) [Verse 3: Mike Beck] (DJ KaySlay) The hood is full of roaches the crib is so full of roaches My livin was so atrocious so flippin we came devoted Ask about the wrist game whip game How I flip change make it to diamonds that glisten I'm the sh** man manuer street polluter Peeps is beast just to eat they'll shoot ya Politics as usual it's usual crucial Shoot through your Red Monkey's let the shells seduce ya I'm a, predicate cutter, better be bu*ter If I touch it I must get cash in a bundance Stacks, for the hundred, pa** smell the blunt scent Get you in the car in your pockets it's your months rent In the front big head on the horn By the time they come check your pulse presume your dead I'm gone Were probably on another coast new clothes another toast New hoes with new dough move low right through those d**h points, from the hood to borderline Take money from the hood and bought the borderline So much more than rhyme his thoughts borderline His brawl with this boar listen to 'em tell 'em I'm a (Street n***a!!!)