(feat. Shawn Wiggs, Sheek Louch & Sun God)
|
|
|
|
[Intro: Sheek Louch]
|
Geah! Aiyyo Starks, whattup?
|
What it do family?
|
|
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
|
We street bullies for cheddar, and that's our word
|
Pop bottles and spend money on chicks with curves
|
We the youth poetic justice, the kings and the Yankees
|
Our flows is vicious, check check, check out my melodies
|
|
[Shawn Wigs]
|
We gifted with vocab to make the streets spaz
|
And I'm infatuated with money like {?} grabs
|
Blow bags of that purple 'til I'm purple like Grimace
|
Burn spinach cause it keep up flows, Shawn's a menace
|
Even Barack watch "The Wire," the streets is political
|
Watch how the '89 analog switched to digital
|
It's a miracle, we gettin rich, offa visuals
|
Millionaires open doors, split them residuals
|
and still don't know how to act, spend 5 beams on jeans
|
Steady blowin cream by the stack
|
I get my change, now go cop, get'cha a drink
|
And have a hoe butt-naked washed up by the sink
|
Blowin stink, and I don't see grass on the field
|
So I'ma tear ass on that field
|
The Doe Wilson walk around with a bottle of Spades
|
Diamonds lookin like I flossed in a cascade
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sheek Louch]
|
Dee dee dee da dee, dee dee dee dee da dee day
|
You asked for Donnie G oh won't you please come out and play
|
They know I keep that black girl, the black guns and the AK's
|
I'm comin where you lay, and yeah I'm gonna spray - hey!
|
Motherfucker what'chu lookin at? The crook's back
|
Staten Island got my back, Brooklyn niggaz let it clap
|
Half these niggaz ride out, Harlem niggaz keep it real
|
Bronx got a shorty there, that's my little hideout
|
{?}, Rose, Donnie cake, souflee
|
M6, no top on it, toupee
|
Rubber grip, stainless steel, the night look gray
|
Yeah, this that fly shit, patch over the eye shit
|
Slick Rick, bruh, these bitches be on my dick
|
Yeah I'm the new draft pick, about to get my ass licked
|
Street bullies blastin, you ain't gotta ask it
|
Ghostface, Wigs, will put you in a casket
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sun God]
|
Can I, kick it? Yes you can
|
Can I, kick it? Yes you can
|
Can I, kick it? Yes you can
|
Well I'm gone - are you gonna miss me when I leave?
|
Besides this 8 times 5, got tricks up in my sleeve
|
Guaranteed, ain't nobody around these beez
|
See the team, we don't sleep, cause niggaz need green
|
We bleed different, we chase money, y'all can chase dreams
|
Came a long way, don't fuck that bread up in between
|
Tell 'em God sent you, load up that wop and let it ring ock
|
It's more than raindrops, when your nigga name get scratched off
|
like his name dropped, that's when that thang pop
|
Y'all niggaz thought once too much, that's why your brain stopped
|
Lock and load both of them 40's I make the place hot
|
You can't wipe that up with no shirt, that take mops
|
Out the window here's another bomb let that bass drop
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Street Bullies
|
| Ghostface Killah |
