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Deez My Streets
by
Max B
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Lyrics
[Hook] Deez my streets, deez my corners f*ckin' with Max B nigga, you's a goner Bullets in yo' ass like heat from the sauna Jeeps run up on ya Peeps with them heats in them jeeps that'll scorn ya Momdukes, popdukes Dress up, black suit, at your wake tend to mourn ya Your wife, your friends, your kids come to mourn ya Don't f*ck with the boy, I tried to warn ya [Verse 1] Where the f*ck is my bread (Where it at nigga) Mu'f*cka, I'll bust yo' head (Bust ya shit) Fill ya f*ckin' ass up with lead Heard through the grapevine, you working for the feds (That's what I heard dog) I'm 'bout to put Harlem on the map Pop the trunk of the Jag and put your father in the back We hoggin' in the back You niggas eat real good in the front row while niggas starvin' in the back We mobbin' in the back Gun cocked, jewels off, robbin' in the back Kill a white bitch while she joggin' in the back Open up your mouth, come slob a nigga's sack, bitch Max spit hard, the nigga rap Sawed-off shotgun, revolve a nigga clap All off hot one, dissolve a nigga fat All off hot ones, resolve a nigga's ass Yeah, talk to 'em nigga [Verse 2] I gets high and abusive Got a brand-new hammer and I'm dyin' to use it We kill a nigga softly, get a nigga off me Slap his tray on the floor and spill a nigga coffee I got faith in this man, but will he ever cross me Will he ever get up the gall and try to off me I ain't waiting on this nigga to do me I'm a do him like Nino did to G-Money in the movie One in his head on the roof The god blow back and kick bread on the stoop Infrared on your shoot Little small dots be resemblin' the circus Dissembling your surface I don't know which emblem to purchase I'm a household name, a good friend of the Burton's And all my lil' niggas is deices Strap 'em up with C-4s and send 'em in the precinct [Verse 3] Niggas saying Harlem ain't hot, don't get popped Nigga our gun talk Cop drops from cocaine rocks Gun spark, Glock cocked, burners from Bangkok Turn your mink into a Hulkamania tanktop (Damn) I'm a fan on the low, I like dudes Floss chain bigger like 60 ice cubes I can't predict my future But before I go back to the pen my bitch'll shoot ya I don't mean to confuse ya You got a good song, that don't mean you're the future (nope) You got a good song, think you the bomb Dogs I'll defuse ya Post up with the ball, back down and use ya Post up with the .4, clap clowns, abuse 'em Gat sounds amusing, smackdown, remove 'em Nigga we'll lose ya (yeah) Keep ya fresh, put your body with the brew in the cooler Holla back, yes Yeah, tried to warn you niggas man Now y'all gotta learn the hard way f*ck it, 'bout to just take this shit all off Y'all can't stop me nigga Your Boss Don Biggaveli You niggas fall back Gang Greene, Byrdgang bitch Let's get this money The game is all mines man All mine
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