corrija a letra Letra Street Cat por Chief Keef

Retornar

Letra

Ayy (Ayy)
Smoking on that satellite (Man, f**k these hoes)
Yeah, because it smoke right (Ffff-beeep!)
I've done been to the jail, I ain't tryna go twice (Beep)
You crazy on the internet, then why you acting so nice? (Beep)
I got all this f**king ice (Beep), I can have a snow fight (Beep)
Droptop down went to 'deem (Beep), and of course, he overlight
(I'm a street n***a, dog, hoes love my style)
n***as' white bricks day but I see f**kin' cold rice (Beep)
(I'm a street n***a, dog, hoes love my sty-)
Ayy, ayy

I'm a street n***a, dog, hoes love my style
I should wrap the Lamborghini black and white like a cow
What's that sh*t up in my pocket n***a it's the .40 cal (Bow)
They be seeing a n***a balling n***a here they come to foul
Baby momma keep on calling she like, "Get your f**king child"
I'm street n***a, n***a, I keep pistols tucked around
He was talkin' crazy, they like "Nah, he was f**king around"
I got folks here in with me and I'll make em' buck you down
I'm street n***a pu**y, I ain't faking for the clout
I got cash but my crazy cousin'll take you for some pound
And I shoot crowds pu**y, we'd shank 'ya for some thou's
I got blue faces, thottianas, make 'em buss it down
I'm a street n***a pu**y, I ain't payin' a hoe sh*t
They got cash apps on deck, I ain't sending hoes sh*t
He a peon ass n***a, he done sent his hoe a d**k
At his dream girl house with gang in that hoe sh*t
I'm a street n***a, dog, everybody know that
So a hater, get whacked, bond money on deck
When I got my first gun, I'm like, "I gotta blow that"
I should go back to dough runners and selling dope sacks
I'm street n***a, n***a, I ain't gotta prove that
Oh, you tryna prove a point? Well, why you gotta do that?
I should go to foster dealers and go buy the school back
I'm street n***a, n***a, that was where my school at
I'm street n***a, n***a, can you understand me?
You don't speak Engli-? How you say, "Rubberband me"?
Smoking on this stinky pack, flame up the gangrene
Sosa what the opps on? n***a, not a damn thing
I'm a street n***a, dog, I don't love no b*t*h
I ain't talkin' to that b*t*h unless she buy her own sh*t
Unless she skrt, skrt, skrt-skrting and riding in her own sh*t
b*t*h steady buying me sh*t, I can buy my own sh*t
I'm street n***a, dog, I was jumping off the porch
I had sprained my f**kin' ankle doin' jumpin' as a sport
Stealin' granny sh*t, now I'm taking nothin’ less a sport
We ain't talkin' to these n***as they ain't nothin' past a dork
I'm a doggy n***a, baby, I know you love my fit
I ain't got no b*t*h, n***a, how you f**k my b*t*h?
Young street n***a, dog, two revolvers and a stick
Don't let folks 'nem hold it, they'll steal ya f**kin' sh*t, ayy (Bang!)

vídeo de música

Seu nome será publicado. Deixe os campos em branco para permanecer anônimo.