L-BURNA AKA LAYZIE BONE - Street lyrics

rate me

(Yeah) Just, just, just, just, just, just

Just ridin, ridin (ridin in the city streets nigga)

Just, just, just (Hi Power nigga) I'm just ridin, ridin

Ridin the city streets in a black Benz, Lexus

I'm just ridin, ridin - I'm feelin you, you feelin me

Ain't nobody judge me (just, just, just)

I'm just ridin, ridin, ridin the city streets

In a black Benz, Lexus or hoopty feelin the beat

Tuckin the piece, I'm just slidin slidin

Feelin my heat, I'm feelin you, you feelin me

We're nothin but crumbs, crumbs, we're nothin but crumbs

We're nothin but crumbs, crumbs, we're nothin but crumbs

See it's the thug, thuggish ruggish, give me some bud

I'm out on the way to go get me some love

Stuck in the part where I put up the cup, don't

What about the slopes, tryin to get dangerous

We're nothin but crumbs, they gave me the tomb

And heavenly Father all over your son

The people are part of ya, never be found

But what was it for, tellin my people

To point to the guns and put up the funds

Finally see who really be ridin, look at the war and here we come

I'm the beginning and the ending, what are we spending, watch your paper

Gospel gangstas walkin in churches

Don't search us, they tyrin to escape the

Monotony and the monopoly, gotta get ready to put us in jail

Rot there, get in the car, "Days of our Lives" oh well

I'm from the best, the sick of the best

The sicker the test, won't settle for less

So Bizzy the Kid, king of Midwest

Let me get this that we feelin depressed

How many times we gather our rest

So why do they cuss, my lips are cleft

Lord knows I'm not ugly – Heavenly Father you are the best

And how many times we gather our rest

So why do they cuss, my lips are cleft

The Lord knows I'm not ugly, Heavenly Father you are the best

One time

I'm feelin you, you feelin me

Ain't nobody judge me (just, I'm just)

I'm a rise to the fullest, make 'em do it, make 'em pull it

Fill your torsos up with bullets, nigga this the true shit

And it sits with a new kid; who goes there, I

We used to slam them do's, now we raise 'em up high

Lamborghini do's to the sky, my nigga

I be flossin on 'em dawg, I ain't shy my nigga

No wonder why nigga, I'm a hard workin horse

Keep my Grammy on a mantle, fuck puttin it in The Source

If rap was a bitch I'll want a divorce

And if rap was a study you would need you a course

I'm a rap 'til my voice gone, probably 'til I lose it

But y'all can't do it, duplicate my music

Listen 'til they cruisin, haters be refusin

They bitches wanna listen to it but they gotta be true with it

Get bucked, knuckle up, act a fool with it

It's rider season, there really ain't no rules to it

Nice and smooth pimp fluid, I'm the ace

Realest rapper since 'Pac, wanna take my place?

I'm just ridin, ridin, ridin the city streets

Packin the strap in the back of my black khakis that's creased

Windows down, system on blast, feelin the breeze

Smokin and chokin that reefer dawg, I'm needin my trees (haha, ha)

Windows down, system on blast, feelin the breeze

Eyes on my rearview, watch my back for the police

The homies say watch my back for enemies

Touch your back, the Hennessy stay and scratch my remedy

Catch me dippin through the streets, givin a fuck, runnin them stoplights

Swerve it to the left, and I swing it to the right

I'm a hard switchin lane, scrapin bumpers and all

All eyes on me whenever I'm rotatin white walls

And as soon as night falls, I let them hundred spokes crawl

Straight dippin through the city with my riders and dogs

It's Mr. Criminal puttin it down with the homies from Bone Thugs

And these haters get flossed on, these bitches get no love