Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Backstreets , by - Lucky Luciano. Release date: 29.01.2007
Song language: English
The Backstreets |
| Yeah |
| Harbor Area |
| Ha ha |
| S’up |
| It’s Ese Daz, the Foolish Loco Youngsta |
| With my homies from San Pedro |
| Mexiclan |
| And my boy |
| Lucky Luciano |
| Sippin' and puffin' all day |
| Blowing smoke through my city while we tryin' to get paid |
| Dippin' and fucking all day |
| My dough she flow, when she really tryin' to get laid |
| Ride with me |
| Where must we rhyme, when we rollin' through the backstreets |
| Ride with me |
| Makin' a mess, when we roll it in the backseat |
| M-E-X is what it is, just handle it, high heels |
| Gettin' very close to handin' |
| Any emcee reaching for my pimpin' |
| And yes, I’m loving this game |
| And ain’t nothing gone change |
| Gettin' more pushy, when it comes to fuckin' 'em dames |
| I’m crushing ya frames (Yeah) |
| Loving the pain |
| Lust for the fame |
| Thinking like they know I’m a name |
| Yes |
| I’m feeling feverish |
| I’m rhyming over the hottest beats, can’t get their knees off this |
| Hook: MCOS |
| I gets hip hop head |
| You can catch me in the back seat, making a mess |
| I gets hip hop head |
| Yeah, shorty really want me, wanna take me bed |
| Repeat Hook |
| Repeat Chorus |
| I’m on vacation, call me Luck W. Bush, baby |
| And not only am I the hot butter with the toast |
| But I’m also a pace po' person for Steak-N-Shrimp Records |
| Ya feel me? |
| 713 |
| I been sippin' and puffin', gone, end of discussion |
| Playa Made Mexican in the door, gettin' his money |
| Lucky Luciano 'bout to open a school |
| I’m out the H-Town, baby, yeah, the home of the Screw |
| Slowed down, chopped up, wet paint, dripped out |
| Codeine and Xanax, know what I’m talkin' 'bout |
| Handle bar-popper |
| Lorenzos with choppers |
| If your money right, you can borrow my boppers |
| Gotta hit a lick |
| Mix up the sip |
| Better swish it up, the fire and sticks, I’m a dip |
| Tip down slow in a farm machine |
| Wood wheel underneath the bagets on my ring |
| Red Ben, on a black Glock, right there on the stash spot |
| Run up my damn drop, you gone get your ass shot |
| Million dollar Mexican ain’t having it, G |
| I done wrecked the microphone, so go on and pass me the weed |
| Repeat Chorus |
| Check it out, you know what I hate the most? |
| When them bitches be lyin' |
| Bitch stop lyin'! |
| (You need to be real) |
| Ha ha ha |
| Pre-Verse: Ese Daz |
| I love sex in the morning, sex in the evening |
| I’m a freak everyday of the week |
| I love sex in the morning, sex in the evening |
| I’m a alcoholic, sex freak-aholic |
| Ever since my birth, I was born to fuck |
| Arellano my last name, with the lust in my blood |
| I’m overdosing like I’m on drugs |
| Sex with no love |
| Got good hands, man, they call me The Glove |
| I love touching women from the beginning with foreplay |
| Like Frank Sinatra, I do it My Way |
| On the highway, gettin' some brains |
| Doin' 40 on the freeway, man, I’m swervin' them lanes |
| Everyday, holmes, we grind |
| Gotta make the feria, man |
| From nickles, quarters and dimes |
| Gotta hustle, get it, man |
| I’m on a Mexiclan plan, tryin' to get rich |
| Being a player money maker |
| It’s just my human nature |
| Repeat Chorus |