Letra de ' Street Shit (feat. Real Bad Man) ' de Boldy James

XO, where we at with it?
Shout out to the Real Bad Man
Let's get it

Can't even feel my fingertips, the blow done numbed my hands
Ain't even have to leave the city, sold three hundred grams
Remember packin' up an ounce, couldn't touch a ten
But now they gotta cut it out or even cut me in
At my junkie house, auntie tryna stuff a stem
On the wheel with the twins and my brother's Schwinn
I sold a brick, was short a O, he didn't wanna spend
They gave my dawg a quarter roll, he took it on the chin
They wasn't with me, I was shootin' in that open gym
A nigga really in that field, this ain't no pretend
Took a risk with my life, I just wanna win
Drunk a six out the pint, but I sold a ten
Steady knockin' heads down like some bowling pins
Out in St. Paul with the Minnesota Twins
Could shake a bag in the city, might hit the road, depends
Had to remix a half-block just to roll a Benz

You never seen a blow syringe or a fiend sick?
Or seen what a junkie'll do to get a clean hit?
Before I learned to hit the work, I had a mean wrist
That shit'll turn a good girl into a mean bitch
Bottles and 'caine, breakin' spliffs like my English
All of my pain tailor-fit from the seamstress
Thought he was illy till I hit him with the remix
That's how I know niggas ain't really on no street shit

I'm at the station, sweatin' bullets, leavin' Washington
Talkin' Seattle, not D. C., know we the mafia
Product of the pavement from Charlevoix to Stahelin
Hoppin' out the iron maiden down in Baltimore with Raven
AR on the backseat, got it folded in the blanket
Nigga try stop me from eatin', we gon' roast him at the banquet
Toastin' to the gangstas, never spoke or wrote a statement
Streetsweepin' with that Mossberg, custodian for maintenance
Feds buildin' cases, niggas foldin', niggas breakin'
Tripped 'em up like a crossword, they roll 'em in from Adrian
Got in trouble once with the coca out in Dayton
So he gave his plug up, down in Boca with the Haitians
No remote location and your homie gon' be waitin'
We gon' snatch his little brother up and throw him in the basement
Hawkin' on Belhaven, used to post up in them vacants
Put the wrong mix on the blow, the shit too strong, got 'em faintin'

You never seen a blow syringe or a fiend sick?
Or seen what a junkie'll do to get a clean hit?
Before I learned to hit the work, I had a mean wrist
That shit'll turn a good girl into a mean bitch
Bottles and 'caine, breakin' spliffs like my English
All of my pain tailor-fit from the seamstress
Thought he was illy till I hit him with the remix
That's how I know niggas ain't really on no street shit

That's how I know niggas ain't really on no street shit
That's how I know niggas ain't really on no street shit