MC Eiht

MC Eiht - Streets Don't Love U songtekst

Je score:

[Verse 1]

Geah, It's 187 cause I'm back on the block

Quick to shoot first wit the gat that stay cocked

It's real gangsta shit nigga, It's on lock

West coast compton, The town that rock

Follow the cracked up roll down the compton block

Not school, But I'm the motherfuckin neighborhood jock

Whether ntv rock or chop ya in

But the team coast sported boy rude a flame

My name not household, I ain't pac

But on the underground fool, Yeah I'm on top

I don't play for the mainstream, Fuck around, Have you playin wit the red beam

Fuck around, few shots leave ya gang green

Slumped over, front seat wit a cold lean

Fa sho, I be first in line to start static wit y'all

Have ya mama at the pad awaiting the call

West coast, West side, East side, We slide

Anywhere y'all want it, Nowhere to hide

Geah



[Chorus]

Creep wit the sleeper, Wit the locust look up on my face

You six feet deeper, And you can't wake, Rain drop's fallin

These street's don't love you, But they can love you

They follow me though



[Verse 2]

Beef ain't a dvd, It's automatic

I'm gone off the hood life, So call me an addict

In the land where girls got plastic tits

Niggaz wit plastic grips ready to start shit

Who the fuck y'all wit? And where y'all from?

Hollows quick to follow the philly stomp

How come y'all tryin to play the thug act?

Just the way that a copycat gon react

And the impact when the chambers slide back

In-Depth description of the carjack

And you know that tattoo when the arm's raised

The shots penetrate you and they don't graze

I just blaze, Just like school days

I run wit a frat of boys, We so crazed

Creepin, So amazing, We a little iraq when we start engaging

Any nigga I smack, My machine is raging

Gun tucked when I gotta fuckin rhyme on stage, Man



[Chorus]



[Verse 3]

Been under the hood spell for so damn long

My life in the streets just can't be wrong

I'm hardcore, Motherfucker, Ain't no joke

I'm old school like a pimp, Likely to trip

No chip on ya shoulder, Likely to knock it off

Every motherfuckin rhyme you rock is soft

Burn, Weak niggaz, burn

Wannabe o.g., But you can't earn

Wanna see us flee, But you gon learn

Just wait, Sky free, See the wheels turn

Hustlas, Ridahs, Hoes, Ex-cons, Grown westside boys like lil jon

I'ma bang compton til the break of dawn

Late night hype, Mean bodies on the lawn

Former has been dickies sure ain't strong

But I'll jack for ya jewels and head straight to the pawn

Geah



[Chorus]
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Taal: Engels

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