Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Street Hop, artist - Meyhem Lauren. Album song Silk Pyramids, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.05.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thrice Great
Song language: English
Street Hop |
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up |
Street hop nigga, more than a rapper |
H O P, Howie owns powder |
Buy and sell, got multiple lines on sale |
Cause I ain’t tryna join my nigga rum in the cell |
Phony niggas running rampant |
Mainly family and friends, why they shit, cool cat trick |
Never play it dumb, he get close |
A nigga play you, played em with the toast |
East, wheat, bread, dough |
Rubber bands, waist band, 3 plus 4 |
7, Trey Pizzy, ain’t no guessing, I gets busy |
With all this work it makes sense |
30 thousand in change when every bird went |
South, west, east, even north |
I bring them wherever as long as they pay the cost |
Ave a young boss |
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up |
Still street with it, niggas hold heat frigid |
Getting complex, beyond fresh, a magnifique blizzard |
Deep dishes spinning like the weights behind the driver’s wheel |
None for diction with a vixen, I’m the livest, still survivors skill better |
You, I’m giving Queens the credit |
I’ll take your wife in just a swipe it’s like I pay with debit |
Life’s a net, set it up, bet it when it’s necessary |
Fuck being legendary, living in a cemetery |
I want to shine now, glowing in the present |
Flowing in the desert while we opening the pheasant |
Provide orders, and we ride daughters fly hoarders |
Just getting by taught us, now we gone supply snorters |
Shining like an April birthstone, rocking the earth tone |
Full clip, shit in my whip, I’m in my work zone |
Insert chrome, right in your mouth to get a point across |
It’s summertime, I’m bout to cop another joint to floss |
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop |
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot |
Now get up |
It’s the young polo massacre, spirit channeled through Africa |
Hammer, I swing like Gallagher |
I serve the work out the Challenger |
Fuck collateral, crack, xannies, and Adderall |
Anything for them c notes, gained the Cee Lo, we out in Reno |
Serve on the D low, just so happened I rap |
My girl the color of Jim Crow, it just so happen I’m black |
Sported the slacks when I bought the yacht |
Rode in the socks, left my phone in the drop |
I need some time to my self |
Just to think, smoke a new down in a blink |
Start the grill, toast to me at the start of the meal |
, Ebonics is spoken over the table |
Steak cut, backwudz get emptied and rolled into blunts |
And those get passed to my niggas |
Damn, I got a little ash on my knickers |
Launder the money through the soda club |
My bitch Christian but she hold drugs |
It’s Porter, nigga |