Our Streets (feat. A$AP Ferg)
Ferg, Ferg
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Let's go
I got with Primo, I'm just pressin' the cheat code
We on a new level with the C-notes
I'm from where kids hustled on the block and rolled cee-lo
And niggas stay strapped like Girbauds
T-Nice with me week to week though
Life was different when they got him for that R.I.C.O
For a couple kilos
Could have had 'em underground, he was livin' life illegal
Now he gettin' right and our pockets lookin' chicho
Sippin' cappuccino on a jet to Cannes
Couple models gettin' lit, they the best in France
Got Leonardo tough, catch me if you can
We had to kill Beijing and next Japan, man
This beat hot, I could catch a tan
My demographic in L.A. all Mexican
I love my supporters, they keep the check in hand
So every time I get a chance, I'ma bless the fam
What up, what up?
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Done created a dream world, slept with my dream girl
Bought mama that new house, diamonds and mean pearls
Done went to Africa, talked to the have-nots
Donated some uniforms, teach 'em how to have guap
Primo put the soul in it, I make the track hot
And this thing forever, got the game in a padlock
I just want somethin' real, I'm tired of the ass shots
Don't wanna go to the club, I'm tired of them trap spots
My generation's stuck on stupid
Showin' guns on the 'Gram, but no one use it
Sometimes I feel like I'm about to lose it
Because the fake win when y'all know what the truth is
It's me, the F-E-R to the fuckin' G
My bars is Gang Starr, nobody can fuck with me
Rest in peace Guru, nobody can fuck with he
You rappers is cookoo, better wake up out your fuckin' dream
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
A$AP
A$AP
A$AP
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Let's go
I got with Primo, I'm just pressin' the cheat code
We on a new level with the C-notes
I'm from where kids hustled on the block and rolled cee-lo
And niggas stay strapped like Girbauds
T-Nice with me week to week though
Life was different when they got him for that R.I.C.O
For a couple kilos
Could have had 'em underground, he was livin' life illegal
Now he gettin' right and our pockets lookin' chicho
Sippin' cappuccino on a jet to Cannes
Couple models gettin' lit, they the best in France
Got Leonardo tough, catch me if you can
We had to kill Beijing and next Japan, man
This beat hot, I could catch a tan
My demographic in L.A. all Mexican
I love my supporters, they keep the check in hand
So every time I get a chance, I'ma bless the fam
What up, what up?
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Done created a dream world, slept with my dream girl
Bought mama that new house, diamonds and mean pearls
Done went to Africa, talked to the have-nots
Donated some uniforms, teach 'em how to have guap
Primo put the soul in it, I make the track hot
And this thing forever, got the game in a padlock
I just want somethin' real, I'm tired of the ass shots
Don't wanna go to the club, I'm tired of them trap spots
My generation's stuck on stupid
Showin' guns on the 'Gram, but no one use it
Sometimes I feel like I'm about to lose it
Because the fake win when y'all know what the truth is
It's me, the F-E-R to the fuckin' G
My bars is Gang Starr, nobody can fuck with me
Rest in peace Guru, nobody can fuck with he
You rappers is cookoo, better wake up out your fuckin' dream
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
Check it, check it, check it
Pull up, pull up, pull up
Yo what up, neph', neph'?
(See this is Harlem, these our streets)
Turn the music back up
A$AP
A$AP
A$AP
A$AP
Credits
Writer(s): Norman Ray Harris, Allan Wayne Felder, Chris E. Martin, Darold D. Brown Ferguson Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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