Streets have eyes

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You a wannabe hood nigga killer Claiming John’s an janes
To get your name in the screets for the fame to try tto take
a detour up to the top of the game you wannabe hood bitch
killer claiming John’s an janes to get your name in the screets
so all the dope boys want to meet to take a detour up to the top of the
game until the screets drip up right beside you with a Draco
lifted right at you with a drumstick pointed right at you finger
glinched on The trigger now all you see is red cause your life
is dead hallows Beeman at your body playing beatbox off your
Oregans making you spit just like Fourth of July Grand finale
fireworks just
hit now all that is left of you is smoke in the sky you propped
in thin air if you had put in work and did your dirt you would’ve
knew how the screets worked not ended up on a
RIP T-shirt
Where there no coming back from should’ve knew the
10 rules
one never let no one know how much cash you got
on hand
two. Never let no one know your next move
three never trust nobody
four never get high on your own supply
five never give no credit
six never let no one no where You rest
seven never Mixed family and business keep them totally
separate
eight never keep no weight on you
nine if you don’t
have a bag stay the fuck away from me
10 this for big grown-ups
not young freshman callled a big word called consignment if
you knew all that The guttersnipe wouldn’t been able to slide on
you wouldn’t knew your next move that everything you get for
Mimic the dope game
that you didn’t know shit about that’s why you got took out

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About the Artist

Kendralove
Member since July 10 2022

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