Artista: AZ Anno: 2005  Genere: HIP HOP
 

ALBUM : A.W.O.L.

Testo

Just gimme the countdown
Know where we goin’ {*scratched: “AZ”*}
Uh-huh {*”AZ”*}
{*”Streets is yours for the taking now”*}
Feels so good {*”AZ”*}You know the come up, stack, get right, put the gun up
Laugh, get nice, split the blunt up
Pray blue and whites don’t run up, remain humble
You see the change when the Range come through
When all the fame ups your game
‘Cause your name’s mumbled
The chicks notice jewels, it’s like hypnosis
It’s ferocious when broke niggas get focused
The cars come out, bottles at the bar run out
You know you’re large when you in charge
Could dodge a drought
But here’s the twist up, when beef and the money mix up
Skirts lift up, a few fights, few stick-ups
Then one little thing just leads to the next
And here come them hot boys to breathe down your neck
Now you gotta pack up, flee from the rest
And just a week ago, you was free from the stress
I guess it is what it is”Creepin on a come up”
“Streets is yours for the taking now”
“Creepin on a come up”
“I’m from the place where hardcore is beautiful”
“Creepin on a come up”
“Streets is yours for the taking now”
“I’m rather unique”
“I’m from the place…” “Brooklyn”

You know the saga, who liver, who hotter
Who shot at who at the Ramada
I knew about beats since Bambaataa
Before “Beat Street” streets was heavily deep with the riders
Guns and money, some was hungry
Dysfunctional families that come from junkies
Jailbirds with wanted warrants jumpin’ countries
Just jungle surviving like a bunch of monkies
Marked dollars, D.A. NARC’s with collars
Niggas snitchin’, but still got the heart to holla
Hot chicks in short skirts and damn near topless
Play fly and they gossip, stay high and just ride dick
Can’t call it, too fresh to spoil it
Two TEC’s to war with, grew up next to all this
So understand, I know from firsthand
The lies of a church man, high off his first gram

The jails is packed, the streets is wack
It’s even worse when your workers tappin’ your reefer sack
Wifey’s getting feisty, she’s beefin’ back
Though it’s unlikely, it might be her Visa’s maxed
The coke is up, so now Kush and Dro’s what’s up
And the Ricans got the game in the cobra clutch
The D’s in the caprice too close to duck
But what the fuck, they can suck on some coconuts
The stress is real, it drains all the sex appeal
Nothing left but jail, death or a record deal
Vibes is weak, hoes wanna slide and creep
Even fiends got a thing for that hide and seek
Stick-up kids, kidnap, switch up cribs
It’s still crazy how them cocksuckers hit up Big
‘Pac is gone, the state of hip-hop is wrong
You want more then log on to A-Z dot com

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