Shut Da F Up & Cut Da Checc cover

Street Kings Paroles

Kokane

Album Shut Da F Up & Cut Da Checc

Paroles de Street Kings

I neva drink, brass monkey, all about my money
Nickname Zy-3, that OG cush junkie
Eyes bloodshot red, I'm highly medicated
A nigga's still hurt cause my pops didn't make it
Seven years old, but I was ?
Raised white, disagree but you can go to hell
Living independently never start to fail me
Cops gave me a tip, now I'm chasing that money trail
I gotta get it cause you know that clock is tickin'
Make sure that my son got a pot to piss in
Meet manglin', hustlin', fuckin'
I do things my way, you can't tell me nothin'
Straight off the motherfuckin' streets, a target
Easy does it, yeah, you know we still stompin'
Kills of the streets, well known as it seems
Sum it up, you can call us street kings, nigga

No threat no cuts on my essay
Fuck and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a fuck
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good shit gonna make you choke
We run shit for Doc da Bloc
West Coast niggas just can't be stopped
Di street kings dun come wit no pay
Dem do wit man de mah shae
Shaw dem maneske to det one fadeste
Wo deste to man di pullin o life ago
Sage, comin o long talk, possin o quotation
Inna di man squa detena ma scuart some
On my rit pin black on di reast eas e
Se wa a dim pussy seme wo dem street kings

No threat no cuts on my essay
Fuck and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a fuck
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good shit gonna make you choke
We run shit for Doc da Bloc
West Coast niggas just can't be stopped

Thirteen years strong, now I'm on, so you gon' respect me
I'm so sick that I got AIDS scared to catch me
Cause I ain't nothin' less that good, bitch, I'm simply great
It's the legendary Kokane, or MCO
Extras, real loses, you don't move till I say so
Gimme three months, I'mma have Obama on the payroll
My ? from Mexico better give me them pessos
My yungins with the field bullshit, callin' torpedoes
When I hustle, break up the head and I spit blood
All my money in the bank, watch how that shit stack up
Crippin' be for pimpin', please willie nigga back up
I'mma Street king, even neon thing, I'mma neat truck

No threat no cuts on my essay
Fuck and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a fuck
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good shit gonna make you choke
We run shit for Doc da Bloc
West Coast niggas just can't be stopped