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conversation with the streets - allstar jr lyrics

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[intro]
(let’s get a bag)
welcome to get a bag records
(okay, kmoney)
let’s get it, k
organized crime, n*gga
yeah, 4746
two*band sack, two hundred bands back

[chorus]
i had a conversation with the streets (with the streets)
told her i’m fallin’ out of love and i gotta leave (i gotta leave)
she said, “who you f*ckin’ with if you don’t f*ck with me, n*gga?” (if you don’t f*ck with me)
“how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?” (how you gon’ do it?)
i had a conversation with the streets (had a conversation)
told her i’m fallin’ out of love and i gotta leave (i gotta leave)
she said, “who you f*ckin’ with if you don’t f*ck with me, n*gga?” (who you f*ckin’ with?)
“how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?” (how you supposed to do it?)

[verse]
is n*ggas in my circle really tellin’? (it can’t be)
did my mama really raise a felon?
i got so many questions, yet i’m searchin’ for perks
daydreamin’ ’bout the days i was hurtin’ for work (i can’t forget that)
how pote feel that i ain’t wrote in three months?
i got warrants and shows, sh*t, it’s hard to keep up (for real)
i can’t even look my brother in the face
a n*gga came up and i know his love fake
malaysia, sh*t fell apart, it ain’t all on you
right now, i’m too selfish to see your point of view
it’s b*tches i done put in whole*ass years with
it was nothin’ like the sh*t i made you deal with
believe me, if the play big enough, i can feed us
it’s times i ain’t come through for him, do he believe me?
i’m loyal, when i look at the top, i still see you
i can’t leave the mob alone, my team need me (let’s get a bag)
he ain’t live that bag life, i can’t f*ck with him
ever copped a zip of soda and been stuck with it?
ever had a fiend nod off in front of you? (woo)
puttin’ ice in the man pants, so uncomfortable
took some l’s last year, startin’ to hit me
countin’ pros last night, shed a tear on a fifty
left my og crib, sh*t stuck with me
say the dope game got me, she can’t even f*ck with me
n*ggas die ‘fore they turn twenty or touch ten
i don’t get this money, tell me who the f*ck is?
spot rockin’, doors lockin’, bro, it’s off the hinges
shifters, syringes, crack smoke, blurry vision
blow*heads givin’ me they last, should be feedin’ children
know this sh*t foul, b*tch, i gotta see a million
n*gga squatted on me, had me thinkin’ he a hundred
that don’t make me a ham, that just mean he a dummy
[chorus]
i had a conversation with the streets (with the streets)
told her i’m fallin’ out of love and i gotta leave (gotta leave)
she said, “who you f*ckin’ with if you don’t f*ck with me, n*gga?” (if you don’t f*ck with me)
“how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?” (how you supposed to do it?)
i had a conversation with the streets (had a conversation)
told her i’m fallin’ out of love and i gotta leave (i gotta leave)
she said, “who you f*ckin’ with if you don’t f*ck with me, n*gga?” (who you f*ckin’ with?)
“how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?” (how you supposed to do it?)

[outro]
hey, i’m tired of pourin’ drank, tired of totin’ sticks
tired of n*ggas plottin’, wonderin’ if i’m a l!ck
tired of bondin’ out, tired of payin’ retainers
the street burnt a n*gga out, you can’t even blame me
two*band sack, two hundred bands back
two*band sack, two hundred bands back
two*band sack, two hundred—
(let’s get a bag)
how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?
how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese? (okay, kmoney)
how the f*ck you supposed to make some cheese?
two*band sack, two hundred bands back

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