Kill Street Blues - Spice 1 Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the morning popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (I'm wonderin' if really popo with y'all) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the morning popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (I'm wonderin' if really popo with y'all) This is kill street blues Sit your 5 dollar ass down Nigga 'fore a chief baller make change Cookin' up yae yo at 3 in the mornin' Choppin' up game sackin' up caine Fetty was layin' all over the floor I guess you cold say that I was slippin' As the door kick in I stick in my clip and begin the dippin' Up on these so called popo But I know it can't be nuthin' but some niggas Runnin' up in ski masks So I continue to curse and blast that asses out Tryin' to gaffle the scratch my gat consumes Just then my killa partner steps outta the bathroom Uzi's and Mack thangs start lettin' off Niggas catchin' slugs to the face Baking soda some niggas brains cocaine all over the place Took a dive behind the coach Heard a nigga say "We gonn' kill you" My 2 twin gats start talkin' to me said "F**k them niggas I feel you" So I bail up outta the cut tryin' ta take lives with no remorse Lookin' like a scene with Laurence Fishborne in "The King of New York" Now it's 3 o'clock in the mornin' and I still don't snooze 'Cuz all my life niggas be given me all these kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the morning popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (I'm wonderin' if really popo with y'all) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the morning popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (I'm wonderin' if really popo with y'all) This is kill street blues 1 nigga died high Face down in uncut yae I stuck my finger up in the hole in his body Told him have a nice day My homie said "The real feds is comin'" said he was hit I pull the bloody corpse off his body he told me get the shit Ran to the kitchen hopin' over the deceased Gotta get the rocks money and powder and evade the police Put the fetty up in my hand gotta be quick gotta be nimble Look to my left seen 3 federalles cars in the window Now it's time for me and my homie to mob the f**k on out As we mob up outta there 3 federalles mob in the house Can't say nuthin' about them other niggas them haters is out there dead Couple a slugs up in they head with a house full of feds And ain't no time to be stickin' around I'm hearin' them ambulances and homocides I'm ready to bail outta the scene and flee up in this "G" ride I'm thinkin' my homie heart stopped nigga dyin' on me Partner dropped down to the ground That's when them popo started firin' on me Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the mornin' popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (I'm wonderin' if really popo with y'all) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock This is how we clock stroll up on my block (3 in the mornin' popo at my door) This is kill street blues Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 404

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