Street Shit Styles P (Ft. Sheek Louch)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Street Shit" by Styles P (Ft. Sheek Louch). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Sheek Louch]
Where my hood at?
Where them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front
And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt
[Verse 1: Styles P]
(Ghost!) Money green, weed green, hood black, heart black
And never let 'em see where you live, where you park at
Never let 'em know how you get it just squash that
Never let the beef ride long, go squash that
You can shoot it out, or go and peace it up
If we was in jail I would make you give your sneakers up
Cause I'm a loyalist, and I spray shit
The 44 make niggas look like crawfish
Cause you seafood, so go on sleep with 'em
I don't trust no niggas, I don't eat with 'em
Matter fact, I'ma keep it street with 'em
I don't like his style, I don't even speak with him
I keep it G from the get-go
Real go-getter, and I let my shit blow
You don't wanna get your shit broke
I got the hawk, you don't wanna get your shit broke
[Chorus: Sheek Louch]
Where my hood at?
Where them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Where them vanillas? Where that sticky?
Where my right hand man with the blicky?
Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front
And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt
Bitch!! This ain't Gucci, this ain't Prada
This street shit I'm fuckin with them niggas say "nada"
Where my hood at?
Where them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front
And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt
[Verse 1: Styles P]
(Ghost!) Money green, weed green, hood black, heart black
And never let 'em see where you live, where you park at
Never let 'em know how you get it just squash that
Never let the beef ride long, go squash that
You can shoot it out, or go and peace it up
If we was in jail I would make you give your sneakers up
Cause I'm a loyalist, and I spray shit
The 44 make niggas look like crawfish
Cause you seafood, so go on sleep with 'em
I don't trust no niggas, I don't eat with 'em
Matter fact, I'ma keep it street with 'em
I don't like his style, I don't even speak with him
I keep it G from the get-go
Real go-getter, and I let my shit blow
You don't wanna get your shit broke
I got the hawk, you don't wanna get your shit broke
[Chorus: Sheek Louch]
Where my hood at?
Where them red and blue flags, where that good at?
Where them vanillas? Where that sticky?
Where my right hand man with the blicky?
Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front
And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt
Bitch!! This ain't Gucci, this ain't Prada
This street shit I'm fuckin with them niggas say "nada"
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