Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song City Streets, artist - Spice 1. Album song Let It Be Known, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.01.1991
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thug World
Song language: English
City Streets |
Yeah |
Spice muthafuckin One |
Coolin in Cali |
Kickin that gangsta shit |
You get with it? |
Hopped in my Blazer, mashed off and left a boy in his car, then |
Tagged him with the skull and bones, cause he be soften |
Hollow like a head without no brains inside |
And his girl was so damn small, you had to strain your eyes |
Got to the corner, hit a left, seen the HPD |
That’s when I knew that they were after S-p-i-c-e |
Turned up my music and dashed, goin 90, I mashed |
Bullet holes all in my window from a 12-gauge blast |
He was all on my ass, I had to think real fast |
Hooked a left, all of a sudden heard a boom and a crash |
Tried to catch the cold, sold the devil his soul |
Had his car and his face wrapped around a pole |
With my vogues still smokin hit 580 to Oakland |
Still upset with the police because my window was broken |
But my beat was still bumpin and my amp was still pumpin |
And my nine was in my lap if any funk was jumpin |
Got the 20th and Nice as I kicked my tune |
Hooked a left on 23rd and seen my homeboy June |
Jumped straight out like an arrow, had more gold than the pharaoh |
Had my Nikey sweat suit on and it was read like a sparrow |
I told him what had happened and he already knew |
He said, You got a little funky with a fake-ass crew |
The bass went boom and your gun went bang |
And all you could see was flames |
At that very moment Coke and Ray started laughin |
And slapped each other’s hands and said, It’s all about blastin |
In the city streets |
City streets |
Kickin it at the park shootin craps with some homies |
My first roll was a 7, so niggas can’t get on me So since my point is 4, I left a Little Joe |
I’m kissin on the dice and I’m pimpin em like my hoe |
So then I roll again, I’m fuckin with Big Ben |
Now I ain’t fade jack because I’m knockin with that ten |
I picked up the dice, shook em up and rolled once mo' |
What came out the do'? |
Whaddaya know, I hit that 4 |
Fuckin with the dank I’m hearin Marvin Gaye’s oldies |
Fadin another 20, took a sip of my 40 |
There go my homie G-Nut with the gin and the juice |
My nigga’s always fuckin with that 187 proof |
I took a big-ass gulp and feelin quite tipsy |
Knowin I’m like this these niggas try to cheat me Huh, they can’t get with me, I put em in his place |
Then G-Nut threw the gin and busted a nigga in his face |
I thought it was quite funny, and I began to smirk |
The fat-ass niggas face was grounded lyin in the dirt |
So I picked up my mail, and I’m about to go Cause I’m about that mo’money, mo’money, mo' |
Now homie on his face, he rolled over just like that |
And said, This is a jack, gimme all my fuckin money back |
I act like I was scared, gave his money back fast |
And when he tried to leave, I busted a cap up in his ass |
These niggas out the kitchen if you can’t take the heat |
Cause muthafuckas gank ya, shank ya, sank ya in the city streets |
The city streets |
A few weeks back I robbed a nigga for a ki Kickin it on the block, slingin d to o-p-e |
Yo, runnin from the five-o, you think this shit is funny |
By any means necessary I must make my money |
If niggas try to fade me, I pull out my nine |
And pop-pop-pop-pop a nigga from behind |
In this world of madness muthafuckas die |
Niggas sling and bang, and bitches always lie |
So I choose to be murderous and chop up niggas’bodies |
And set like an example, a villain like John Gotti |
The muthafuckin gangsta S-p-i-c-e |
They ring my mobile phone, now who the fuck could that be? |
Bitch, I said don’t call me, I’m busy clockin g’s |
I thought it was the fuzz, but some niggas told me 'freeze!' |
The barrel was my back, it’s a muthafuckin jack |
I knew I shoulda packed, I ain’t goin out like that |
These niggas caught me slippin, and fuck a yellow sack |
Niggas must be trippin cause they Daytons touch my back |
I hopped out of my shit and told him go ahead |
And when he tried to leave I busted a cap up in his head |
With blood all over his face is how the homie fled |
I dragged him out the car and filled his corpse full of lead |
These niggas out the kitchen if you can’t take the heat |
Cause bitch, I’m a gangsta, shank ya, sank ya in the city streets |
Aight, Banks |
Let’s pack the shit up, mayn |