Live From The Streets

Oh, señorita, when the evening sun goes down

I come to serenade you, from another part of town

Let's get it on it's Angie Mar' reportin' live from the streets

From Y.O. to Philly and Harlem to Q.B (uh, uh, uh)

When it drops, it's game over, you'll see (yo, yo)

Introducing, Jadakiss (yo) and Styles P (yo, yo), where you at?

Know we still in the hood dog, in front of the store

With the work across the street and the gun in the stall

Soon as somethin' happen, niggas wanna run to the law

You know the code of the streets, never run to the law

That's why I can't even run 'less I run with a four

Or I walk with a three, come and talk to 'em P

You can catch me down bottom with a bird and a Glock (uh-huh)

On the block makin' money where they murder a lot

Or you can catch me up top shooting dice for a yard

I'm talking six digits, niggas bet the house or the car

You can catch me hitting the spliff, sickin' the pit

On a fiend like I'm missing my shit, they think I'm crazy

Catch me hitting your lady in my Mercedes

Bird on your baby, fuck you, I'm keeping it gravy

L.O.X. hold the hammers, like we waiting for screws

With Angie Mar' blowing motherfuckers out of their shoes, what?

Comin' live from the streets where some died tryin' to eat

From Y.O. to Philly, from Harlem to Q.B

And when it drops, game over, you'll see

Introducin' Beanie Sigel, tell me how you livin'?

Ayo, I've been kickin' murder since Adidas with thick strings

T.I. sweatsuits, Pumas with thick chains

Four finger rings, black belts with brass names

I was spittin' flames since niggas was pitchin' change

I'm a hard knock kiddo, always played the middle

Threw flacks in the crack game, getchu if I can getchu

Since a buck, played the highway, dodgin' the troop boys

Jumpin' in and out of Coupes, wavin' for Duke boys

Always chased a penny, copped quarter waters

Tried to make a dollar, chased my pop's boss daughters

Tryin' to make my name global in all four corners

Philly baller, gamin' in all four quarters

Never worked, never will (all my hoes buy my clothes)

I can't go broke, never will (all my bros buy my O's)

I'm the best thing that linked up with New York since Sprewell

I murder, nuttin' further, fill in the details (yo)

I'm here, it's over, fuck how y'all feel

When I drop, y'all gon' realize it's all real

Bein' left for dead, tied up, smoke 'til I was dried up

So high up, seem like the sky ducked, high what?

Life was rough, but now it's nothin' to hide

Used to click and be quick to put this gun to yo' side

Be like, "That chain nice, I like that pal

Matter fact, I'd like that now"

You've got game? Call the name, just spell the name right

Brett, one of the best rappers ever to touch a mic

It's prophesized I'd write, spit scriptures mind blowin'

'Til my coffin top close and heaven skies open

Fear no man's my slogan, I hope y'all believe

I'm just like you, fear nuttin' human that bleeds

My mind breed two movies, six ab-lums, a hundred poems

30 R'n'B joints, I'm beyond the norm, y'all just mad

I'm just glad, got my time to shine

Y'all the type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes

Brett, from my ByStorm family, with Angie

Come live from the streets, from Harlem to Q.B

And when it drops, game over, you'll see

Introducin', finally, the legendary Kool G

It's B.G.S. kid, so what you facin'? Caps racin'

Decapitation 20 buck 50s and lacerations

Guerilla fam' camouflaged out in the grass waitin'

To blass your nation slash like Jason and bash your face in

We ass lacin' top bodies and half in the basement

Our style, cast you so bad you'll need plastic replacement

When gats is raised in, fascination blastin' and blazin'

Evacuation for your whole staff, there's gas in the tank and

Gets back abrasions from cap grazin', defy gravitation

Pull my shit back squeeze bust it like masturbation

Hold fort, hold the blow torch, leave your soul scorched

With no remorse, the state of New York, get your shit caught

When niggas hawk, let the fifth talk, so tell me who's the next man to flip?

I stop the beef shit, with rubber handled grips

Your candle get lit, guerilla shit feed us banana clips

The hammers hit, anything in our range we dismantle it

Like to say thanks to my street correspondents for gettin' on this

Comin' live and direct with no nonsense

Sorry folks for hurtin' y'all

The previous has been brought to you by Up Close and Personal