Paroles:
Custom Streets

why i oh why sometimes it's time to think about it sometimes it's time to find time he may be her lucky penny that she'll never get to shine the streets

a stranger? And why should I feel like I'm in danger? And I'm grindin' 'till I'm right Whether it's on the streets, or online tryna climb sites I ain

non mi scappi, parlo di strada perche posso, parlo di quel che vivo e che conosco, io non mi faccio grosso perche alle mie spalle ho un blocco Street

' up syrup blow herb From lane to lane we grip the grain, and 20's chop up the curb We popping flippers on sippers, 3rd Coast g's on the rise With bubble eyes and customized

school just about to graduate short shirts ed`day tryina show they little shape low cut jump jeans lugz on hea feet neighborhood girl but she love the streets

talkin' Sprayin' niggas up when that clip poppin' On the west with the (gangstas), they Crip walkin' Glock pistol grip, custom fit coffins Niggas

you want to be evil like Knieval then jump I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the mental custom

victims of the heartbreak That kept us short of breath Trapped above these bloodless streets Without a safety net I stood in line to join the trial One more customer

before I've read any rights Baby I'm outlaw, painted up and packin' the bombs I stomp cracks in the streets and sound fire alarms Bitch run for your life