Angie Martinez - Live From The Streets Lyrics
Featuring beanie sigel, brett, kool g. rap & the l.o.x.[unknown singer]Ohhhhh.. senorita.. when the evening sun go downI come to.. serenade you.. from another part, of town{*car tires peeling out*}[angie martinez]Lets get it on its angie mar reportin live from the streetsFrom y.o. to philly and harlem to q.b.When it drops its game over, youll seeIntroducing, jadakiss and styles p, where you at?[the l.o.x.]Yo, yo, yo, yo, yoYou know we still in the hood dog, in front of the storeWith the work across the street and the gun in the stallSoon as somethin happen niggaz wanna run to the lawYou know the code of the streets, never run to the lawThats why I cant even run less I run with a fourOr I walk with a three, come and talk to em pYou can catch me down bottom with a bird and a glockOn the block makin money where they murder a lotOr you can catch me up top shootin dice for a yardIm talkin six digits, niggaz bet the house or the carYou can catch me hittin the spliff, sick in the pitOn the fiend like Im missin my shit, they think Im crazyCatch me hittin your lady in my mercedesBird on your baby, ***** you Im keepin it gravyL.o.x. hold the hammersLike we waitin for screwsWith angie mar blowin mother*****ers out of they shoes, what?[angie martinez]Comin live from the streets where some died tryin to eatFrom y.o. to philly, from harlem to q.b.And when it drops, game over, youll seeIntroducin, beanie sigel, tell me how you livin?[beanie sigel]Aiyyo, Ive been kickin murder - since adidas with thick stringsT.i. sweatsuits, pumas with thick chainsFour finger rings, black belts with brass namesI was spittin flames since niggaz was pitchin changeIm a hard knock kiddo, always played the middleThrew flacks in the crack game, getchu if I can getchuSince a buck, played the highway, dodgin the troop boysJumpin in and out of coupes, wavin for duke boysAlways chased a penny, copped quarter watersTried to make a dollar chased my pops boss daughtersTryin to make my name, global, in all four cornersPhilly baller, gamin in all four quartersNever worked, never will - all my hoes buy my clothesI cant go broke, never will - all my bros buy my osIm the best thing that linked up with new york since sprewellI murder, nuttin further - fill in the details[brett]Im here, its over, ***** how yall feelWhen I drop, yall gon realize its all realBein left for dead, tied up, smoke til I was dried upSo high up, seem like the sky ducked, high what?Life was rough, but now its nothin to hideUsed to click and be quick to put this gun to yo sideBe like, that chain nice - I like that pal.Matter fact {*click click*} Id like that now.Youve got game? call the name, just spell the name rightBrett, one of the best rappers ever to touch a micIts prophecized Id write, spit scriptures mind blowintil my coffin top close and heaven skies openFear no mans my slogan, I hope yall believeIm just like you, fear nuttin human that bleedsMy mind breed two movies, six ab-lums, a hundred poemsThirty r&b joints, Im beyond the norm, yall just madIm just glad, got my time to shineYall the type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes[angie martinez]Brett, from my bystorm family, with angieCome live from the streets, from harlem to q.b.And when it drops, game over, youll seeIntroducin, finally, the legendary kool g.[kool g. rap]Its b.g.s. kid so what you facin? caps racinDecapitation twenty buck-fifties and lacerationsGuerilla fam camouflaged out in the grass waitinTo blass your nation slash like jason and bash your face inWe ass lacin top bodies and half in the basementOur style, cast you so bad youll need plastic replacementWhen gats is raised in, fascination blastin and blazinEvacuation for your whole staff theres gas in the tank andGets back abrasions from cap grazin, defy gravitationPull my shit back squeeze bust it like masturbationHold fort, hold the blow torch, leave your soul scorchedWith no remorse, the state of new york, get your shit caughtWhen niggaz hawk, let the fifth talkSo tell me whos the next man to flip?I stop the beef shit, with rubber handled gripsYour candle get lit, guerilla shit feed us banana clipsThe hammers hit, anything in our range we dismantle it[angie martinez]Like to say thanks to my street correspondents, for gettin on thisComin live and direct with no nonsenseSorry folks for hurtin yall, the previous has been brought to youBy up close and personal
