Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Street Wars , by - Vinnie Paz. Release date: 20.06.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Street Wars |
| Yeah, bout as real as they come |
| Still pushing base like an African drum |
| The only other hands that it touched before Young |
| Was a Guala out of Dallas with shag like Tum Tum |
| Back to the hood where niggas started detoxing |
| Till I hit them corners with that motherfucking sheet rock |
| The rollers back bitch, the seal’s on the back bitch |
| The six-three highlights the difference like an asterisks |
| Yes, the re-up game never dies |
| Soda makes the brick multiply |
| Push tons of monster with the pie |
| Keep water from the villain |
| Remember what it did to them gremlins? |
| Oh God, street wars when the heat warms up |
| In summertime niggas know what’s up |
| Heavy armour, heavy drama, heavy karmas |
| We the reason haters scared of us fucking their baby mamas |
| Soon as this product hits the street |
| You know they will be strung |
| They’ll be dancing to the beat of this drum |
| Listen, It’s addiction hey |
| You know we got em hooked like fiends |
| They open like a trunk |
| They’ll be dancing to the beat of this drum |
| Listen, It’s addiction |
| Yeah, I told Pusha, I told Mal |
| Vinnie move more white shit than a snowplough |
| Everybody knew the Guinea was so foul |
| The SKS with the bayonet, oh wow |
| I’ll rob everything and leave you with a hungry gut |
| The hollow tips leave you looking like you got a Gumby cut |
| You think you fucking with the God then you’s a funny fuck |
| Rambo knife cut your stomach like a tummy tuck |
| All you see is darkness when the gun bursts |
| The G36 melt your brain like a Pun verse |
| I act wild but I handle my funds first |
| I’m drunk all the time, blood quenches the son’s thirst |
| I don’t talk about the money I got |
| Because if money want my money then money gets shot |
| Rap shit don’t work then I dumb on the block |
| With Pusha and Mal cooking up the drums in the pot |
| Still with the coke man, same as it ever was |
| Re-up gang, we the shame of America |
| Eighties hysteria, the 'caine be my legacy |
| The feds got our names, they hang us in effigy |
| Best believe it come back like it never left |
| I write rhymes but I’ll bet I’d make a better chef |
| They can’t wait for it to dry, they like it better wet |
| And I’m heavy with the D like Eddie F |
| I whip it good, real good then I let it rest |
| Then I scrape the sides then I let em test |
| Yes, I got weight like Creatine |
| A gem star hit that chopping block like a guillotine |
| Know what I mean? |
| Sitting on chrome rims |
| Not only paper, we stack brick like Stonehenge |
| Go against us? |
| Haters got no wins |
| I trust no one and I don’t need no friends |