Stuck in the Streets
Hit-Boy
Bitch, I been that nigga, ask that bitch what
When you down on your ass, who gon' pick you up?
It only take one call for me to get you touched
Brodie bro gon' slide with shotty pump, that's that Ricky run
Goin' through some shit, hard not to think about
Glock my necessity, bitch, I can't leave without
If you my nigga, be my nigga, ain't no keeping count
Pop a Perc before I fuck her, watch me beat it down
I'm just gon' put it in her gut, you gon' eat her out
Put that pressure on a nigga, what you be about?
Yeah, you be rappin' about that block
But you don't be around
Pop up to a sucka's show, that won't be announced, bitch
And I'ma catch a body 'fore I catch a feeling
Once I peep your true colors, shit was extra different
Heard the feds got a case, they're tryna hit us with it
But I'ma catch a flight 'fore I get caught up in it
I was posted on that block, just a young nigga
223s, I bring them chops, we don't go ones, nigga
Parked up in their business, tryna catch a nigga slipping
But them niggas don't come out
It's like we funkin' with our bitches
When you stuck up in them streets
It ain't no way up out it
I lost my nigga to this shit, we sprayed that K about it
And every time we pull a skid
we ain't gon' speak about it
You postin' pictures with that strap, but you don't scare nobody
To a broke ho, three words: bitch, fuck it (bitch, fuck it)
Hit it from the back, then kick her out, we don't cut 'em
Glock hold 30, shoot a couple, make 'em tumble (Boom, boom-boom)
All facts, no cap, real rap, this ain't mumble
If the pussy wet, dive in, I'd love to (I'd love to)
When them bullets fly
Bitch where you gon' run to? (Where you gon' run to?)
Suckas flexin' all these guns
We got guns too (We got guns too)
Hit your bitch from the back and got sucked too (Nigga)
Hella foreigns back-to-back and we lane changing (Skrrt skrrt)
You ain't ready for these streets, they ain't a safe haven
What's the point of havin' ass if it ain't shakin'?
If this Glock get to barkin', then I can't tame it (Boom boom)
Young niggas with that bag, yeah, we been hot (Been hot)
If them suckas was outside, they would've been dropped (Nerd)
If you let the bitch breathe, she would've been knocked
You ain't bringin' in no guap, bitch, kick rocks
And I'ma catch a body 'fore I catch a feeling
Once I peep your true colors, shit was extra different
Heard the feds got a case, they're tryna hit us with it
But I'ma catch a flight 'fore I get caught up in it
I was posted on that block, just a young nigga
223s, I bring them chops, we don't go ones, nigga
Parked up in their business, tryna catch a nigga slipping
But them niggas don't come out
It's like we funkin' with our bitches
When you stuck up in them streets, it ain't no way up out it
I lost my nigga to this shit, we sprayed that K about it
And every time we pull a skid
We ain't gon' speak about it
You posting pictures with that strap
But you don't scare nobody
Bitch, I been that nigga, ask that bitch what
When you down on your ass, who gon' pick you up?
It only take one call for me to get you touched
Brodie bro gon' slide with shotty pump, that's that Ricky run
Goin' through some shit, hard not to think about
Glock my necessity, bitch, I can't leave without
If you my nigga, be my nigga, ain't no keeping count
Pop a Perc before I fuck her, watch me beat it down
I'm just gon' put it in her gut, you gon' eat her out
Put that pressure on a nigga, what you be about?
Yeah, you be rappin' about that block
But you don't be around
Pop up to a sucka's show, that won't be announced, bitch
And I'ma catch a body 'fore I catch a feeling
Once I peep your true colors, shit was extra different
Heard the feds got a case, they're tryna hit us with it
But I'ma catch a flight 'fore I get caught up in it
I was posted on that block, just a young nigga
223s, I bring them chops, we don't go ones, nigga
Parked up in their business, tryna catch a nigga slipping
But them niggas don't come out
It's like we funkin' with our bitches
When you stuck up in them streets
It ain't no way up out it
I lost my nigga to this shit, we sprayed that K about it
And every time we pull a skid
we ain't gon' speak about it
You postin' pictures with that strap, but you don't scare nobody
To a broke ho, three words: bitch, fuck it (bitch, fuck it)
Hit it from the back, then kick her out, we don't cut 'em
Glock hold 30, shoot a couple, make 'em tumble (Boom, boom-boom)
All facts, no cap, real rap, this ain't mumble
If the pussy wet, dive in, I'd love to (I'd love to)
When them bullets fly
Bitch where you gon' run to? (Where you gon' run to?)
Suckas flexin' all these guns
We got guns too (We got guns too)
Hit your bitch from the back and got sucked too (Nigga)
Hella foreigns back-to-back and we lane changing (Skrrt skrrt)
You ain't ready for these streets, they ain't a safe haven
What's the point of havin' ass if it ain't shakin'?
If this Glock get to barkin', then I can't tame it (Boom boom)
Young niggas with that bag, yeah, we been hot (Been hot)
If them suckas was outside, they would've been dropped (Nerd)
If you let the bitch breathe, she would've been knocked
You ain't bringin' in no guap, bitch, kick rocks
And I'ma catch a body 'fore I catch a feeling
Once I peep your true colors, shit was extra different
Heard the feds got a case, they're tryna hit us with it
But I'ma catch a flight 'fore I get caught up in it
I was posted on that block, just a young nigga
223s, I bring them chops, we don't go ones, nigga
Parked up in their business, tryna catch a nigga slipping
But them niggas don't come out
It's like we funkin' with our bitches
When you stuck up in them streets, it ain't no way up out it
I lost my nigga to this shit, we sprayed that K about it
And every time we pull a skid
We ain't gon' speak about it
You posting pictures with that strap
But you don't scare nobody
Credits
Writer(s): Chauncey A. Hollis, Dustin James Corbett, Jesse Iv Woodard, Juwon Lee, Jabbar Kingston Brown Jr., Wayman Barrow Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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