Street Sweeper (Remix) [feat. Freddie Gibbs]

Her name was Tracy
Workin' at the bar tryna be a star
Dreams of babies, yeah
A house and a car, to cover the scars
But she knows
Only a temporary fix
But that's how it goes
Even perfect people miss

Street sweeper, baby
I love you like crazy
Forget the "Maybe"
Cause you're my type of lady
Street sweeper baby

Street sweeper baby, street sweeper baby

What she wanted
Was to move to France, paint and dance
And I bought it
Not a wealthy man but we can fake a plan if you want to
Just a temporary fix

But what do I know?
Even faithful people slip

Street sweeper, baby

I love you like crazy
Don't tell me "Maybe"
Cause you're my type of lady

Get, get, get with it
Whole thing, we'll get it

Every visit, she was all about the chip, chip, chips
When I hit, hit, hit it, so ride out
I got a room in the city 'bout a mile out
I got the drugs, baby girl you can [?]
And I be chillin' in the Caddy on vogues
About an ounce to roll, I'll be outside when you clock out
Shout to my hoes in the strip club
Ass in the air, legs bent up
Down to move a bag for a nigga, get a stack for a nigga
Real bitches help a nigga get his chips up
Nigga she be on the wheel lookin' for the rollers
As I'm ridin' shotgun, blow doja
It may be a shootout if we get pulled over
But she ain't trippin', she a mothafuckin' soldier
Girl, 'til it's over, baby
And I got a lot of hoes and I know that shit's complicated
No time but [?] ain't it?
Anything, finna kill it
Make her body rock, body drop when I pull it
Girl you're number 1, number 1 with a bullet
Number 1 with a bullet



Credits
Writer(s): Christian Berishaj, Freddie Gibbs
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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