Street Wars Songtext / Lyric

(*Prod. by Shuko)

[** feat. Clipse and Block McCloud:]

[Verse 1:]

Yeah, bout as real as they come*

Still pushing base like an African drum

The only other hands that it touched before Young

Was a Guala out of Dallas with shag like Tum Tum

Back to the hood where niggas started detoxing

Till I hit them corners with that motherfucking sheet rock

The rollers back bitch, the seal's on the back bitch

The six-three highlights the difference like an asterisks

Yes, the re-up game never dies

Soda makes the brick multiply

Push tons of monster with the pie

Keep water from the villain

Remember what it did to them gremlins?

Oh God, street wars when the heat warms up

In summertime niggas know what's up

Heavy armour, heavy drama, heavy karmas

Be the reason haters scared of us fucking their baby mamas

[Chorus:]

Soon as this product hits the street

You know they will be strung

They'll be dancing to the beat of this drum

Listen, It's addiction hey

You know we got em hooked like fiends

They open like a drug

They'll be dancing to the beat of this drum

Listen, It's addiction

[Verse 2:]

Yeah, I told Pusha, I told Mal

Vinnie move more white shit than a snowplough

Everybody knew the guinnie was so foul

The SKS with the bayonet, oh wow

I'll rob everything and leave you with a hungry gut

The hollow tips leave you looking like you got a Gumby cut

You think you fucking with the God then you's a funny fuck

Rambo knife cut your stomach like a tummy tuck

All you see is darkness when the gun bursts

The G36 melt your brain like a Pun verse

I act wild but I handle my funds first

I'm drunk all the time, blood quenches the son's thirst

I don't talk about the money I got

Because if money want my money then money gets shot

Rap shit don't work then I dumb on the block

With Pusha and Mal cooking up the drums in the pot

[Repeat Chorus:]

[Verse 3:]

Still with the coke man, same as it ever was

Re-up game, we the shame of America

Eighties hysteria, the 'caine be my legacy

The feds got our names, they hang us in effigy

Best believe it come back like it never left

I write rhymes but I'll bet I'd make a better chef

They can't wait for it to dry, they like it better wet

And I'm heavy with the D like Eddie F

I whip it good, real good then I let it rest

Then I scrape the sides then I let em test

Yes, I got weight like Creatine

A gem star hit that chopping block like a guillotine

Know what I mean? Sitting on chrome rims

Not only paper, we stack brick like Stonehenge

Go against us? Haters got no wins

I trust no one and I don't need no friends

[Repeat Chorus:]