Lyrics:
of the stars
I'm a DJ of the stars
Young static shock
Burning rubber on your block
Give a charge to these players
It's the game i'm finna stop
Slide a benji
that's free game for all you thousand airs
It's funny sour D's will smell sweet
All these niggas think they sell them on Canal Street
I'm sittin' twelve
turn your livin' brother to a ghost
I'm off a Perc' and I'm movin' slow (Huh)
Kick in your trap and I fuck your ho, nigga
Yeah (d-d-d-dj banned)
These
The Scarecrow is out there ya only for huntin'
Special thanks to my brother Bill Dunigan
Rest in Peace, he taught me bout these mean streets
So therefore,
going to come back, no you won't
My bird stone age words in this world stuck just wondering
All these times still pondering this ever changing life
Too
the streets
It's about the music (oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh)
Forever
DJ Drama (ooh)
Y'all ready? (Cannon)
Oh, the life that we live, oh
Mmm, these streets
become the new
School styles of rap
Like Naughty by Nature, Leaders of the New
A Tribe Called Quest
Dr dre and Snoop Doggy too
Red Alert keepin' it street
raised on these streets
I was raised by some mothafuckin G’s
Homie i was raised on these streets,
I was raised on these muthafuckin streets.
Not
I roam the streets where there's no peace, relax
Funk comin' in stacks, bullets comin' from gats
So I duck, lyrical buck buck get stuck
I'm jammin'
at the crossroad but I wasn't by myself
Some take the right and, some take the left
But lo and behold, what do I see?
In the distance, some resistance
[Chorus]
Oh oh, ooh, oh no
I see everybody around but it feels like we're in private
I know you want me so bad 'cause you just can't seem to hide it
Oh oh, ooh, oh no
I see everybody around but it feels like we're in private
I know you want me so bad 'cause you just can't seem to hide it
Coast flow is different than the East
But it ain't no different in the street
I'm spittin' pollaseeds (I'm spittin' pollaseeds)
I crack 'em one by
the street in peace (why)
Cah, what a hard soul fi dead, ruin by dread
What a hard soul fi dead, so live by dread
What a hard soul fi dead, DJ by dread
But,
son, can't get buried
I got stripes in these streets like Burberry
I remember I ain't make a three, now I'm Curry
I might pop a fuck nigga, yeah, like
the place, yeah yeah
(In these streets, in these streets)
(Play for keeps, play for keeps)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(In these streets, in these streets)
(In
play the harp fool
The streets is my philanthropy
These beats help a nigga keep his sanity
I'm riding round New York in my car, mellow
Smoking on that
Wont exchange these
Or get tamed by lame police till varje pris maintain steeze
Inget kan hejda vår tid e kommen bomben e släppt
Så spreja med flit mot
to stop the madness
Yo, we in the place
(Now whut's up?)
DJ, pick up the pace
(Now whut's up?)
Gyrate, feel the bass
(Now whut's up?)
What the deal, huh?
this ho
Turn down for what?
Turn down for what?
DJ Drama, what up, nigga?
Throw them sparklers in the sky, nigga.
Motion picture shit, nigga I pull up
love in these streets
It's just some pain in it
But I was made in it
Yeah, we were raised different
You can't see the trap when you still caged
they feeling our shit
So we hit 'em with the really crazy flow (crazy flow)
To let 'em know that we be hitting it fa' sho
Time goes by, in your life
Kay Slay, Cipha Sounds, Amanda Diva, (Sirius Radio)
Dj Chop, (Enough), DJ Hyphen, Greg Street, you know I'm talkin' 'bout?!
All the radio stations
In the beginning there were many
As time went on there became few
Now there is only one..
One man one DJ standing alone on Mount Olympus
Ladies
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