Conejo

Conejo - Streets Cold lyrics

Your rating:

From here on nothing goes down unless am involved, no 
blackjack no dope deals no nothing, ah nickel bag gets 
sold in the park, I want in
Crystal ice
Crystal ice
Crystal ice
[Conejo]
Fuck that! 
Homie get the gat
Enemies wanna creep I lay'em flat on their back!
Fuck that! 
I ain't the one'na get jacked!
I'm the one who that spit it real, hood class in the 
shack!
And move that, multiplying them stacks
I'ma upper up the Ford and never let it collapse
These hood rats, all you bitches get slapped
I was killing some talk, about the foo that got whacked
Ese nah, I ain't with the bullshit
With the homies in the back ese hitting the Chronic
And I doubt it, it get stronger than this
Ese ninety-nine percent, fucking bullets don't miss
Dismiss, you in the presence
Of ah Harpy gang member, I just thought I would mention
It's ah diss, and you can rest in piss
Can't fuck with some G's that ain't giving ah shit
The streets cold, they so cold you fold
Unnecessary statements, topics untold
They pick me outta line and said that's the one
But what they gonna prove with the witness gone
The streets cold, without ah weather report
The meth laboratory blow the roof out your home
Get doned, before you pick up that phone
Conniving ass traitor, got to see in his tomb
[Frank V]
I walk around like I lost it
Through the cold street, where weak vatos get frost bit
Thirteen below, everybody know
It's cold in Southern Califas, but there ain't no snow
Every man for himself, vatos out for the take
And these evil ass hynas, cold blooded like snakes
But ah vato still standing, I just kept to myself
And only, heated 'em up, when they step to my wealth
Then I got snatched up, while I was doing my thing
Pigs put me on stage but couldn't make me sing
And in the concrete jungle, I remained ah survivor
And I carried myself, like ah main line rider
All in the mix up to my neck and trouble
But when I, hit the bricks, my respect was double
Hooked up with conejo, the crime spree began
Through the calles of Los, pistolas close in hand
The streets cold, they so cold you fold
Unnecessary statements, topics untold
They pick me outta line and said that's the one
But what they gonna prove with the witness gone
The streets cold, without ah weather report
The meth laboratory blow the roof out your home
Get doned, before you pick up that phone
Conniving ass traitor, got to see in his tomb
I can't write ah rhyme without killing some shit
Some gangster shit, some intelligent shit
Cause skills I got 'em, and guns I got 'em
And you ain't gotta ask, if Rabbit ever shot 'em
Cause BLOW! You in the danger zone
Ese me G loony, Hoover Park Capone
Let alone, all the bitches we crack
Ese methamphetamine's, black tar and some crack
I said I can't write ah rhyme without using the F word
Hook it up from scratch and to the curb we serve
What's the word, that I'm ah species superb
G fucking with the dragon, and muthufuckers get burned
What it's like, in the place I come from 
Shootings in my town, cause LA's one one
Twisted, is how your body get found
No money no go, just the streets so cold
The streets cold, they so cold you fold
Unnecessary statements, topics untold
They pick me outta line and said that's the one
But what they gonna prove with the witness gone
The streets cold, without ah weather report
The meth laboratory blow the roof out your home
Get doned, before you pick up that phone
Conniving ass traitor, got to see in his tomb
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found