Young Chop - Str8 Out lyrics

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Young Chop - Str8 Out lyrics

[Hook: Trouble] I got it straight out the street Whatever you find you keep Hundreds of pounds a week How could you down a G? How could you foul on me? How could you hound a freak? How could your rounds be weak? How is you down my G? How is you down my G? You ain't got a pound at least? You must ain't did right by your folks You must ain't real as you believe I turn this sh** up for the streets I keep sh** a buck when I speak I ain't tryna find me no good girl I'd rather bust down with a freak [Verse 1: Veli Sosa] Hundred grand in one week Switch it up, we got freaks Hit Sosa, you want to eat Hit Sosa, you want to eat I'ma tell you where we gon' meet Hope you ain't the police Keep a bad b**h, all times n***a All my hoes on fleek [Hook: Trouble] I got it straight out the street Whatever you find you keep Hundreds of pounds a week How could you down a G? How could you foul on me? How could you hound a freak? How could your rounds be weak? How is you down my G? How is you down my G? You ain't got a pound at least? You must ain't did right by your folks You must ain't real as you believe I turn this sh** up for the streets I keep sh** a buck when I speak I ain't tryna find me no good girl I'd rather bust down with a freak [Verse 2: Trouble] How could your rounds be weak? You raised them boys to be some hoes You raised them boys to be some p**ys Bet you look surprised when n***as fold I can't even be there for an hour I swear to you I hate to lose sh** I don't give a f** who came before me To me, my n***a, that's a new b**h I came through the bricks, that's on my new sh** n***as hate but don't know what to do with me n***as tried, they all get to shooting with me I say women ‘cause I get to shooting first [?] n***a come out of that red dirt Ain't a baller street, young n***a go headfirst I was sipping in the trap spot Now I'm in the sky with dumb knots, n***a [Hook: Trouble] I got it straight out the street Whatever you find you keep Hundreds of pounds a week How could you down a G? How could you foul on me? How could you hound a freak? How could your rounds be weak? How is you down my G? How is you down my G? You ain't got a pound at least? You must ain't did right by your folks You must ain't real as you believe I turn this sh** up for the streets I keep sh** a buck when I speak I ain't tryna find me no good girl I'd rather bust down with a freak

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