Havoc Its kinda bugged how I go sometimes Know they staring, brain feels like a wheel lost with out the ball bearing Stuck, contemplating on who I can trust But like lleullo in a bill my feelings just get crushed But thats why I stick with my duns, like I stick with the guns Dont get mad , rip your hun, concentrate on my funds Lift heavy gats concealed by my waist Never get patted down when I step in the place Jiggied up, smoke the pot, confirm if it is real reefer or not Rally up, after this get followed straight to the crib Gem star, double edge apply pressure Shave em down, blow marks right through your mecca Wanna be a thug, now you got the thug look, Stick em up, leave medicaid, with the real to push God-body, with a rubber grip black shotti Pump one in his ass make that nigga switch hobbies A dossage, hand delivered, without postage Bring it to your door step quick on short notice Niggas get sniped like, klonker brockite Show em how to rock right, when bitches hold the mic, street life
Hook
(2x)why you have to raise me this way, you showed me how to survive the Concrete, if I survive only time can say, you where a part of me.. (street life)
Big noyd This is something you feel nigga, like the theme song from hill street blues This is real, this is ill street news How he gone, and left his moms mind struck Now his brother aint giving a fuck Little sister giving up the butt now, dun dont wet that I want you to rest black, cause you better belive noyd gon handle that Cause when I get em, Im gonna have em Pull out the sweeper, and spray it at them I aint no killer, you know me But Ill be damned if I dont lie for my co-d And then this old g, scold me, and told me, coldly You keep it up and you will be dead like your homey But I gotta redeem, get this cream by any means I never been clean Nigga, my whole click got dirty from the battles, to the trials and bloody up shirtsleeves Nigga you heard me Its gangsta
Hook 2x Prodigy Vision the canvas I paint a picture Similar to ernies barnes nigga But mines is more ghetto more guns More drugs, mostly thugs All my duns, their baby moms daughter and sons Dark blocks, with streets lamps shot the fuck out Park benches broke, a nigga stretched out Jumped off the roof to his death its real Hand ball walls displayed with r-i-p murials Those who sling, play the shadows by the building Devils spring, keep em going while the snows blowing Grams get dipped, 50s are moked, cookies are broke And spliced in large pieces for the fiends to smoke The sun set looks beautiful over the projects What a shame, its aint the same where we stand at If you look close you can see the bricks chipped off Sometimes niggas miss when they lick off dont get clipped off Street life