Street Rules - Mad Skillz

Yeah

Yo this go out to everybody, just doin what they gotta do

KnowhatI’msayin?

To get that cream, knahmean?

The streets don’t care who you are

And those who fake jacks son they never get far

Yo, where I reside fake niggas run and hide (what?)

The streets be wicked, keep that biscuit by yo' side

What the fuck?

Who the next crew to get run amuck?

It’s all real over here, on the streets you get stuck

For fakin jacks don’t max cause the block stay hot

Watch your back for the jeal' niggas tryin to get what you got (true)

Count your dough slow, never flash your ends

Always keep a stash spot and never make new friends

Commit your sins (right) confess on your own time kid

Never think that you too nice to do a fuckin bid

Don’t nobody but you wanna see, you gettin bigger (uh-huh)

So for every loyal nigga (what?) it’s two spoiled niggas (true)

Midnight to six cliques pullin sweet vicks (uhh)

Fulfullin cream dreams, takin niggas out the mix

Nine-pound locked down by you and yo' crew

But watch yo' back nigga (why?) because the streets don’t have to

Yo, fuck gettin high, I need high dough

And when you high all you seein is yo' money movin slow

So scratch the itch, don’t slip and don’t snitch

Leavin?

C’mon, this ain’t «Superfly» bitch

Ask black, the kid with the wide-body Ac'

Put a freeze on your cheese and you’re workin 'til he stack

Nuff bills to chill, sniff lines and shit

'til some niggas hit crib on some tec-9 shit

I numb gums like coke when you take a taste

You in the wrong motherfuckin place tryin to be Scarface

Niggas be schemin and slippin on Henny demon

Tryin to outlast the next ass, cash got him fiendin

To rock on the wrong blocks and don’t know the tactics

In God we trust, mad deep like Sounds of Blackness

Locked in the rule of no sharin, it might seem

I’m selfish but I’m for delf I can’t spend whipped cream

Break it down

The man is so hot niggas is catchin suntans

Makin plans to jam after they bag up this next gram

Brothers gettin laced, I caught a new case

But if they want me, they got to kill me twice like Screwface

Excess players I got no time for rest man

Keep that dough flowin, motherFUCK owin the next man

Neighborhood villain, hoodie Glock no smile

When I see you it’s gon' be, executioner style

What nigga?

Check the stee', yeah you know how it get

Out here some ol' (?) Columbian blindfold shit (true)

Dou-ble go to club chill drink holder (uhh)

Discrete down to low cabbage gettin street soldiers (hah)

Duckin guys 'til heads recognize the real

Lettin lead fly, but instead I maintain and chill (uh-huh)

You know the deal, kids get ill don’t sleep

You get your card pulled quick fuckin around in these streets

Yeah, you know how we do

Big shout to everybody

I ain’t mad at ya, do your thing, y’knahmean?

Northside, Southside, Eastern, Western

Niggas gotta win