Lyrics Streets (feat. Que P) - Lakah

Coming thru da baccdoor
Trapping out da spot the plays is coming to the tracfone
Gotta kno dat da sacc long
Quarterback da pacc my nicca something like Mac Jones
Got da bags like it's carryon
Never falling off i'm steady going like a metronome
I forever put da city on
But if a nicca play we put his picture in a funeral home
Get to the cheese like it's cottage, came up from impalas
We balling jus take off the rim
Need u to get this thru yo noggin, ima change the climate
When i put sum ice on my wrist
Spent yo rent on sum exotic my lyrics atomic
I promise it's my time to win
Moving jus like i'm robotic that mean Ian stopping
Til my prices high as a bitch
Money talk my shit is hollering didn't go to college
My knowledge i gained in da streets
Paper trail is what i'm following gotta acknowledge
That i am the one with the heat
No we don't play round wit brooms but you Play with one of mine
Bet we sweep u off ya feet
That scale is my favorite tool ain't no other spot but the top
Thats where i'm tryna be
You play wit me and you get moved, it's like we sum lineman
The way we push u out ya cleats
I swim in ha like it's a pool, get in it and groove
She lose control in the sheets
He trying me like ima fool, finna lose my cool
And take all my dawgs off the leash
Better get ya weight up soon, and please don't assume
That u can come fuccn wit me

Hopped in the streets so aplomb
I been going dumb
Blue cheese sitting in my palm
All I wanna do is go thumb
How a nigga feel when he coming out the mf slums
How a Nigga fell When he coming from the crumbs
Bitch trying give a massage with her mf tongue
Trying suck up a nigga like a fucking dum dum
Trying suck on Nigga like fucking tootsie pop
Gotta keep me a Glock
Might get a Nigga popped
Might get a Nigga dropped
Might get a Nigga knocked
Put a bag on his head green light on his top
I didn't fuck on his bitch I just let her give me top
Heard she want a rich Nigga and she like dreadlocks
I ain't worried about shit cause my shooter keep a mop
Double cup on the rocks filled with da wok wok
Filled with da wok wok
From the hill to the west Like Nike keep a check
These niggas be scared I ain't breaking no sweat
VVS around my neck got baguettes around my neck
You ain't getting to the bread then I feel you mislead
Situation misread it'll have a Nigga dead
Coming like a triple threat 1204 is what i pledge
Don't find yourself a dead thinking I'm a sweet lick
That's why I keep me a blick you Niggas ain't on shit