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Felony n***** Lyrics

(Two guns up m***********, Two guns up m*********** (overlap))
Real s***
Styles P s***
If P want you dead, I ain't comin' wit n*****
Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor
So ya homies got something to pour
That's that old school s***
I ain't tryin' to put you under the floor
I'm tryin' ta bang n***** over the clouds
And I heard you say you rich
So you can't get lower than Styles
Kill everybody dead just so no one can smile
Play the streets my whole life and I been flowin' a while
Biget I rock, ever since my n**** was shot and my other n****
Was shoot s*** I'm tellin' the truth
If I lie, may I die in the middle of the verse
My n***** hustle from first to first
Twelve months in a year
Gun on your waist, Blunt in your ear
Pat in your sock, Trade at the back of the block
With a fein watchin' for knorx till the s*** get dark
We jump in the hoop ride, instead of the six
While you lookin' for a b****, we lookin' for a brick
That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix
Catch me on "?" gettin' sixty a shift
Holiday Styles, n**** I ain't nothin' but streets
Just as hard as the s***, that be under your feet
And the only time I front is with a blunt and a beat
To show n***** that I'm nice and they ain't f*****' wit me

[Chorus:]
Felony n*****
Cop c*** Heavily n*****
That'd arm rob seventy n*****
You know
Murderin' n*****
You want doe, they servin' you n*****
Stay on fifth, Gettin' swervin' on n*****
You know
Whether we ride or we die we gonna get this doe
All I know is drugs and guns
And plenty of weed
And that b**** that suck d***
And n***** that bleed
And if you're rich before you go
Get a watch and a drop
You better hit the court house
And better bail out the block
If your son ain't worth s***
n*****'ll smuggle your daughter
I come through in a Porshe
The same color as water
I got weight, what you want
I can cover the order
They call me Boss when I cross the border
Six shot "caught her?"
I hear n***** say my face is screwed
But I'll put six in your stomach n****
Lace your food
Scream "f*** Every Rapper" that hate that I'm rude
But that's that SP s***, you can take it or move
We can let the bullets spill, till we all get killed
There's only six nice rappers
If you want to be real
n***** die everyday from talking that dumb s***
That where they're from s***
All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick
Just another dumb b****
Go to church to get the holy ghost
I did my dirt and got the holy ghost
Look at the world through a n***** eyes
Don't be a b****, you gonna live and die
Rivin' in the sky, but no love when you slither by
I pray to god that we make it to heaven
But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven
You know four, five and seven, hot as f***
And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us
But since n***** still alive they should be telling you somethin'
You ain't hear from Holiday, he ain't tellin' you nothin'
You know, c*********
[Chorus: x2]
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We Are the Streets (2000)
Intro (skit) f*** You Can I Live (feat. Kasino) Built for Bodies (skit) Breathe Easy Felony n***** Wild Out Blood Pressure Recognize Rape'n U Records (skit) Y'all f***** Up Now Scream L.O.X. U Told Me (feat. Eve) Brains... (take: 1) (skit) Ryde or Die, Bitch (feat. Drag-On & Eve) Bring It On If You Know (feat. Swizz Beatz, Drag-On & Eve) We are the Streets