Lyrics:
and my nigga. What!?
[Killah Priest]
The emperor, chief sinister, street minister
guaranteed in two bars to finish ya
React like a cat when he arches
cover like ten men
We're steady mobbin'
You're covered by children
You Kidz Boppin'
Your album ain't droppin'
Need a phone to cop it
Cost $9.95
TWO easy
killed in these streets
If someone gone need forgiven
I rather it be me
I defend me
So, I don't have no nightmares
When I sleep
I say more by saying
knew a kid they called flip
Played above the rim could've balled on the Knicks
Loved the street life he was saving on them nicks
Marching with
the ky you see me locking in with who
Yeah you keep yo heat but in that jam why you ain't shoot
Fuck the streets and fuck the system get my bread and imma
sauces
Like an, autopsy leavin' 'em nauseous, when I aim at your bosses
Put a pep in that bop that you walk with
While my tec spittin' at reinforcements
down by law and I know my way around
On 42nd Street, lookin' for some action
Women standing on the corner selling satisfaction
One young punk just
of spite
Reorganizing my circle feel like a puzzle, having flashbacks when I was a kid
These schools always swear they teaching something
The streets
Huh, the rest was my legacy.
I was born to be the king of the be-bop swing,
To have stallions and medallions, big diamond rings.
I own a castle
ready and locked on
Finger fucking forgotten sat on top wit my bop gun
Fly around just like I'm top gun
Pin the tail on the dragon
I go to war you fuck
my daydream
New I was the shit
Ever since I was a
Juice box sipper
With my
Kids Bop hitters
In my Spider-Man slippers
No
I don't wanna kiss her
Got
a psychopath, I'm never keepin' it plain
Lyrical murder is somethin' I've been about
Ever since I was a little kid, doodlin' in the class
Drew a picture of my
the hood with bop and quin
Shout out my hopper lil Johnny Gill
I gave her a hit watch her bop again
I come from the children of pots and pans
I know it's
(muah)
If a nigga get to trippin', get the bang-bang (bop)
Believe with this bitch, man, I put that shit on everything
She tryna pull my pants down
I
boys plotting
Bad bitch on my dick she gone ride it til she car sick
biting on me like a cobra Damn this chick a little Toxic
Bitch what's popping
Bitch
would be easy But we Gunna find a way out Since day one I’ve been out here up in these street kid Tryna make a name for myself Hungry for money I got
my kids: Britney, Jeffry, and Jordan
Keep coppin' new whips: Bentleys, Benzes, and Porsches
My niggaz, and my fans is the only thing of importance
UHHHH,
One foot on the curb other one in the street
As I walk and I bop all down the street
Like, Momma in the kitchen cooking food to eat
Local
down
Shit craze, 'cause I really started from the bottom
No bitch Drake, shooters in my hood is dummy rocking (Bop-boop)
Section eight, yeah my
streets still no
Matter how ugly it seems long as I got on my
Bulletproof Buddy Lee jeans
Kweli and 'Cris
Niggas never heard no shit like this
Yeah, I got
shoulders
I'm thinkin' I could brush it off and nobody notice
Keep raisin' my kids, Whitney, Jeffry, and Jordan
Keep coppin' new whips, Bentleys, Benzes,
open stay focused
Careful who you roll with
They killed my nigga his blood was still in the street while we was mournin,
I can’t sleep, nightmares are
to the roof of his mouth for thirst
they that be slain in the street be better than we that be slain by hunger and thirst
(Yoh) hard world out here
Kudos to the killer
Chevy sittin' crooked, teeth on Reggie Miller
I'm a motherfuckin' beast, see me in your sleep
Nightmare on any street, swear I will
Discuss these nightmare on my street by kidz bop kids Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In