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streets for you (chapter 2) - crock taylor lyrics

[intro]
yea

queens

yo…

[verse]
ayo, i remember sleeping in the bas*m*nt…next to the roaches
on a matrees on the floor, we ain’t have nothing at all
me, my brother and cousin, ’cause the couches was too small
big facts, backyard party days, no kickbacks

still i ain’t really attend them, ’cause i ain’t f*ck with no friends
and i’m still that way, ’til this day, if i’m with you then you my kin
sh*t, i put bread on my n*gga lils’ books whenever i’m able
’cause i’m solid independently, stay away from them labels

got to take my n*gga von on a flight to hawaii
we been at this sh*t for a minute, just tryna get money
since we was rеcording across the street with p.h
always told my brother, like “f*ck ‘еm, ’cause we gon’ be straight”

ran up in that b*tch and told ’em “swag is back”
but you ain’t hear it, ’cause you know, n*ggas acted wack
and that track was crack, so was everything else i recorded
“red nation”, “facetime”, “bussin’ at ’em”, “i’ma boss”, sh*t
you don’t want me keep going, ’cause i could go on for days
i could tell you ’bout when my n*ggas reek was beefin’ with haze
and that’s my f*cking guy, so i threw a shot at cherry
but we ain’t on that virgin sh*t, no time to pop a cherry

and no that’s not a diss, so stop the sh*t
i’m just tryna spit some knowledge and acknowledge the obvious
my rhymes should be common sense, but i could make it rocket science
which n*gga got the block as live as i did? in that “i’ma boss” vid

no one of course, sh*t, ran it like water out of a faucet
and never tried to force it, so they had to forfeit
i’ll never sell my soul, give a f*ck what the cost is
don’t tell me none of your offers, offices call, i dodge it

if officers run up on us, i’m off the scene quick
go ‘head and ask the neighbors, they’ll tell you that they ain’t seen sh*t
that’s how it go on the twelve
somebody ’bout to fight, n*ggas like, “go to 112!”

had to scr*p for my brother, can’t let him go take an l
he a little younger, older n*ggas know, but oh well
it’s a southside thing, don’t n0body care, we all heartless
still free lils, and i’m off this

[hook]
that’s the streets for you though
that’s the streets for you though
grimey sh*t, n*ggas’ll line your b*tch
and leave your whole family in the streets for your dough

- crock taylor lyrics

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