Lyrics:
Better have it
Its like real shit murder
What she wrote nigga
Im from far rock where it
Ain't no hope nigga
young Gs will grip, then blast
Have you tried in the street? Fuck findin' my feet
I could ride, but it's better when I'm ridin a beat
My emotions are
until they get killed by somebody
And it could be anybody, streets are a like a slot machine
If I go, I'll at least take a few coppers with me
Nothings
it wasn't for these drugs I probably would've crash
I lost my homie to the streets he was supposed to have my back
Rubber banding money by
can do."
He tell me send him the addy and he'll slide after school
I'm like, "Ok, bet."
Never knew where he stayed at
He walked down the street
fun, have fun have, have, have fun
Yo, yo, I'm up, out, moving all about
It's Saturday again? Eheh, no doubt
Where's my skate key? Yo where's my skates?
Strange fruit in the wind
Muted by humans that think they're
Superior due to skin color how fair is that
Especially if equality's where it's at
Way fair
(Yeah, where the girls)
Yah-yah
Ayo, my niggas can't cap, can't have fun by their damn selves
Everytime we pull up, gotta ask ""Nigga, where the girls
"oh how?"
You gotta open your heart
'Cause we don't have
Time, I get it
Actually no I don't
Make the best of what you got before you go
Know some kids
background
Said this is in '09 and still no medicare for grandma
I done said out their names and niggas still ain't wanna [?]
Lu probly tell me Trouble you
the new owner of these fuckin streets
Go by da name of Plies have you heard of me?
[Verse 1:]
Kept it muthafuckin gutta from day one
Right now homie
I must have lost your number in the all-night garage
And now I'm wandering up and down your street, calling you name, in the rain
Whilst my shoes
to have no pot to piss in, forgive me God for all that sin
Real Street nigga, posted up in festivals, selling out of bows
It was winter when I slept in,
I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
(Hit-Boy)
(G. Ry got me)
Look, fuck rap, I'm a street legend
Block love me with a deep reverence
I was birthed in a C-section
Hella cops
the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
I want to run i want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside i want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
clothes are bought and people meet
Each city has a place that's quite the same
Even though it might go by a different name
Delancey Street
Delancey
stall
Stutter, softer than melted butter
There's no other word, go ask your mother
Hard solid as your city
Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that
named vanessa got it goin on
I'm a wax that ass give her one map then send her home
Headed to the mo she got my knee's knockin pulled over by the park
Now
And the towels are oh so fluffy
Where the Shriners and the lepers play their ukuleles all day long
And anyone on the street will gladly shave your back for
peeps caught up in none of my beef
I'm a ride to the end of the road if I have to
Praying no car speeds by for me to crash to
Steering wheel in my hand
Gresham Park where your moment get defined (Get defined)
The story of my life (The life)
Way before I ever wrote a rhyme (Way before)
Have you ever done
watched me grow
On these streets they watched me grow
On these streets
Yo
Tottenham, I was raised in the block, that's man
Surrounded by dingers
.jpg/271px-Vanessa_Carlton_promo_photo_(recoloured).jpg "Vanessa Carlton"){kind=spacer}
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