Mobb Deep - Streets Raised Me Lyrics
HavocIts kinda bugged how I go sometimesKnow they staring, brain feels like a wheel lost with out the ball bearingStuck, contemplating on who I can trustBut like lleullo in a bill my feelings just get crushedBut thats why I stick with my duns, like I stick with the gunsDont get mad , rip your hun, concentrate on my fundsLift heavy gats concealed by my waistNever get patted down when I step in the placeJiggied up, smoke the pot, confirm if it is real reefer or notRally up, after this get followed straight to the cribGem star, double edge apply pressureShave em down, blow marks right through your meccaWanna be a thug, now you got the thug look,Stick em up, leave medicaid, with the real to pushGod-body, with a rubber grip black shottiPump one in his ass make that nigga switch hobbiesA dossage, hand delivered, without postageBring it to your door step quick on short noticeNiggas get sniped like, klonker brockiteShow em how to rock right, when *****es hold the mic, street lifeHook(2x)why you have to raise me this way, you showed me how to survive theConcrete, if I survive only time can say, you where a part of me..(street life)Big noydThis is something you feel nigga, like the theme song from hill street bluesThis is real, this is ill street newsHow he gone, and left his moms mind struckNow his brother aint giving a *****Little sister giving up the butt now, dun dont wet thatI want you to rest black, cause you better belive noyd gon handle thatCause when I get em, Im gonna have emPull out the sweeper, and spray it at themI aint no killer, you know meBut Ill be damned if I dont lie for my co-dAnd then this old g, scold me, and told me, coldlyYou keep it up and you will be dead like your homeyBut I gotta redeem, get this cream by any meansI never been cleanNigga, my whole click got dirty>from the battles, to the trials and bloody up shirtsleevesNigga you heard meIts gangstaHook 2xProdigyVision the canvas I paint a pictureSimilar to ernies barnes niggaBut mines is more ghetto more gunsMore drugs, mostly thugsAll my duns, their baby moms daughter and sonsDark blocks, with streets lamps shot the ***** outPark benches broke, a nigga stretched outJumped off the roof to his death its realHand ball walls displayed with r-i-p murialsThose who sling, play the shadows by the buildingDevils spring, keep em going while the snows blowingGrams get dipped, 50s are moked, cookies are brokeAnd spliced in large pieces for the fiends to smokeThe sun set looks beautiful over the projectsWhat a shame, its aint the same where we stand atIf you look close you can see the bricks chipped offSometimes niggas miss when they lick off dont get clipped offStreet lifeHook 2x
