Рет қаралды 111,978
They out here wildin in these streets
They out here stylin in these streets
They out here looting and shooting and black profilin in these streets
They out here dealin in these streets
They out here stealin in these streets
They out here illin and killin they hurt yo feelings in theses streets...
Boy, I tell you these streets ain't no joke
You need to stay up out of em before you get smoked
You lookin like food to a hungry nigga broke
Every hood in America filled with cutthroats
Police scanners tune in to the murder that I wrote
Gave em cement shoes and then I toss em off a boat
Make sure all the bubbles disappeared he didn't float
Left my calling card for the coast guard a suicide note
Sometimes these lil rappers need to shut they fuckin mouths
Don't care if you from the East or West or North or South
Where I'm from they bring it to yo doorstep at your house
What you talkin bout? Can't play no football in no blouse
I be running plays like the quarterback sneak
I call you 7 days cause your rap style weak
Freak hit the Cuervo and she just got geeked
Did a dance on the police then I left em in the streets...
They out here wildin in these streets
They out here stylin in these streets
They out here lootin and shooting and black profilin in these streets
They out here dealin in these streets
They out here stealin in these streets
They out here illin and killin they hurt yo feelings in theses streets...
Boy I tell ya that you just won't last
Your mouth gon write a check, that your ass can't cash
All the shit you did , gon come back from the past
And when they catch up with you, you know they gon woop yo ass
Consequences, repercussions for them guns that was bussin
And now the police coming round, asking all them questions
Ain't nobody tell em nothing they don't want to admit it
Street justice is upon him and they want you to get it
They had motive before they did it premeditated, committed murder And they never, ever once reconsidered
Never heard of such a thing
You get yourself crowned tryna be king of this rap underground
Real bad boys move in silence, don't make a sound
Been down we the reason fake dude don't come around
4 pound catch you outta bounds another body found
Chopped em up in pieces and fed em to the hounds
They out here wildin in these streets
They out here stylin in these streets
They out here lootin and shooting and black profilin in these streets
They out here dealin in these streets
They out here stealin in these streets
They out here illin and killin they hurt yo feelings in theses streets...
Boy would you boss up
These niggas is mustard man they need to catch up
Put ya hands in the air and throw ya sets up
If I ever make it rain ya might get wet up
I don't walk around a criminal, or faking I'm a villain
I'm known around the globe for simply makin a killing
Man you all up in yo feelings, money spending when it's old
And I'm all up in the game, even if the weathers cold.
And they still don't know my name, but insane is how I roll
Man I'll blow yo fuckin brains on the floor and snatch yo soul...
They out here wildin in these streets
They out here stylin in these streets
They out here looting and shooting and black profilin in these streets
They out here dealin in these streets
They out here stealin in these streets
They out here illin and killin they hurt yo feelings in theses streets...
Written, performed, and mixed: Esham Smith
Producer: Erik Andress
Mastering: Rob Genadek