Lyrics:
the flavor my old bird said some of
My songs sound like noise
Don't watch the Bulls as much
They got too many white boys
A million black men walkin'
Towards
of smiling
when on the inside Im just trying to tame the monster that torments my soul!
Why should I try so hard to grab the bull by its horns? When I am
raise up
Then off to the south, the streets would of made us
We making money, but we never let it change us
Like my nigga Hard say, it ain't
and there's no runnin'
I'm gonna tell you how I feel about you
No bull, no lies, no slack, just straight fact
Columbus, Georgia, you can suck my dick
You
and drive slow homie
My homie Mali used to stay, 79th and May
One of my best friends from back in the day
Down the street from Calumet, a school full
and drive slow homie
My homie Mali used to stay, 79th and May
One of my best friends from back in the day
Down the street from Calumet, a school full
a young OG
I'm a classic man
Your needs get met by the street elegant old fashioned man
Yeah baby I'm a classic man
Keep my gloves dirty but my hands
cap where was you when I asked you for the help?
No cap where was you when I did it by myself?
Life ain't safe in the streets
It ain't safe in
the alley under a ladder tripped over a black cat
Fell in the street got hit by a toyota with a hatchback
Play my music let everyone know that I can rhyme
But
coasta New York Post
Yo New York Post don't brag or boast
Dissin' flavor when he's butter that you put on your toast
Put my address in the paper cause I
the streets alone and that’s what made me brave
Gave you my all.. well that was a mistake
you want it just ask nigga
you don’t gotta take
Wait
What he say
you smoke one now,
They'll electrocute you to death
I got god on my intellect
Godzilla by the neck
When the nigga come through, who you wanna holla
get turned to an athlete
My niggas still dodging PC Andy
Lil Wayne I want a milly
I'm serving J's out ere hair picky
Step with the rambo or i'll
"Spellbound"
With fly girlie's dipping, brothers gripping and sipping
Old Gold, Red Bull, hands on my dick and
I'm just lamping with my EK shades,
it
You better gain way
You better hit bull's eye
The kid don't play
If there was a problem
Yo I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ
to the County with no motherfuckin' bail
4800 with this Crippin', oh well
My big homie Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail
He said trip Dogg, ya better get
gone be settled for what they did to my dawgs
They put my young bull in that kennel for not abiding by they laws
Swear it's like boston massacre the way
or my signature
I gave it to, all of them cause I was down to earth
And plus the Apollo is my home turf
So I walked across the street 'til I'm on, 125
Yea, yea, yea
Skip to my Lou down Northeast 163rd Street
Hot concrete never get cold feet
Some of my peeps don't even got a visa
They'll Frisk ya
And cross all my T's
And by the way my GPS
You out here way to lost in these streets
I needed 2 of everything
Like I was spellin' out Tennessee
I wrote this
it's for survival
As if it's the last sip of water I'll ever get
Ribs visible, eyes bloodshot, thrusting away
Got my cob looking like Mexican street
make my music for the thugs in the streets
And all the real men who make sure their kids got some to eat
Yall talking about clothes chasing these pros
and there's no runnin'
I'm gonna tell you how I feel about you
No bull, no lies, no slack, just straight fact
Columbus, Georgia, you can suck my dick
You
used to stay one 29th and May
One of my best friends from back in the day
Down the street form Calumet a school full of stones
He nicknamed me K-Rock
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