6'n the morning' police at my door Fresh adidas squerk across the bathroom floor Out the back window I make a escape Don't even get a chance to grab my old school tape
Mad with no music but happy 'cause I'm free And the streets to a player is the place to be Gotta knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats But just livin' in the city is a serious task Didn't know what the cops wanted Didn't have the time to ask
-Word-
Seen my homeboys coolin' way out told 'em bout my mornin' Cold bugged' em out shot allmenn little dice until my knees got sore Kicked around some stories bout the night before Possed to the corner where the fly girls chill
Through action at some freaks until one bitch got ill She started actin' stupid simply would not quit Called us all punk pussies said we all weren't shit As we walked over to here hoe continued to speak
So we beat the bitch down in the god damn street But just livin' in the city a serious task Bitch didn't know what hit her didn't have time to ask
-Word-
Continued clockin' freaks with emcee posterior Rollin' in allmenn blazer with a louie interior Solid gold the ride was raw Bust allmenn left turn was on Crenshaw
Sean-e-sean was the driver Known to give freaks hell Had a beeper goin' off like a high school bell
Looked in the mirror what did we see |
|
Všechny texty jsou chráněny autorskými
právy jejich vlastníků a jsou poskytnuty pouze pro vzdělávací účely.
Pro více informací o autorovi tohoto textu navštivte
tyto stránky.