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[Intro: Streetlife] Yeah, yeah Let them, let them, let them, let them, let them Let them, let them, let them, let them, let them [Streetlife] Where I come from, we don't run when the cops come We die with our guns, if you want something, take something Shaolin, son, still bangin' those Warrior's Drum I'm a Staten bum, with a hazardous tongue I got grizzly, bear back niggaz rollin' with me So hustlin' with Street, is real risky Who wanna bang-bang? Do you really? Son, I slap you silly, leave a quarter of your brain dizzy I'm a Park Hill, hillbilly, packs a nine milli' From New York City, bust your gun, but don't miss me I'm liable, to run up in your wedding recital Pump lead through the bottle, hit the preacher in the bible My life is like a Green Mile, my thoughts is suicidal Shorties likin' my style, aiyo, I'm not your idol I'm a side effect, from a drug overdose Pull out the black toast, you start catchin' the holy ghost [Chorus: Streetlife] Let them come, I said me ready for them, ahhhhhhh Let them come, I said me ready for them, ahhhhhhh Letras de canciones [Streetlife] I smoke MC's like sherm sticks Hold a nina with a firm grip For all y'all, don't know, best to learn quick I bust my gun until it goes click, click Feel me? I don't give a fuck who you roll with You can go and get who you wanna get I got an extra clip to put a mudhole in that bullshit Come on, you can bring your whole click Watch me pop 'em like hot grits, when the glock spit I turn thugs to prophets, havin' you changin' Your name, to Ahmed Mustafa, this is Killa Hill Projects Nothing but convicts, and conflicts Run up on your style, it can be on some old, run your garments Let them come, I said me ready for them I heard them bust them guns, y'all better bust them again I roll with a gang of thieves, off of social disease That won't, hesitate to squeeze, nigga please [Chorus] [Streetlife] Street, walk with a limp, straight gorilla Mood killer, shit on your picnic, very pestimistic Mostly roll for delf, promote self Everything else is everything else Criminal minded, filled with hatred Put down your guns, your ammo; don't waste it I'm troublesome, pack a mack double one Bring drama, that's what y'all niggaz don't need Cause trauma, make a thug slow up his speed I'm sick with it, foamin' from the mouth, watch me spit it Watch the critics, be like, he got potential I bust your snotbox, if you second guess the Street credentials Stop the press and bitches, drop ya dresses Warriors trapped through essense (let them come) Come in peace, or, leave on stretchers Gangstas, stick to your guns, or thump on the streets Cuz I don't plan to run [Chorus] [Outro: Streetlife] Bust them again... From Letras Mania