Young Scooter
Letter 2 the streets
Life cray, that's how the streets is
Let me go!
Rest in peace to Doe B
That's just sad to see
I remember when he used
To get the gas from street
He was born a country-boy
N***a, just like me
Tilt blessed him with a chance
But he survived these streets
Niggers hate everyday
That's the way the game goes
Gotta keep some shooters with me
When I ride this show
You not safe in the club
You know money, it talks
And for the right price
Your partner knock you out!
No new friends, no new friends
Catch us no other man
No bitches neither
They'll tell 'em you went for 'em bad
New hunters, old hunters
I got free that
Slow money, fast money
Fuck it, make it...
Yeah, these streets ain't safe
I'm the one should tell you
I'm from the street, n***a
I know what's going on
I mean, teaching's my life
I don't see no other way
Ride Through the town
Sitting on the back seat
Smoking not a pile, real Kelly, O. G
I'm just thinking 'bout Pimp's next court day, next week
My son asked me, daddy
Why you not been asleep all week?
I'm money thinking plus
A lot of niggers plotting on me
Ogb, that's my n***a, I know he watching on me
Bmg, that's my company, I'mma die by that
I put my life on the line
Gotta take that chance
I gotta do it for the streets!
I'm the voice of the streets!
You broke, you listen to me!
Rest in peace to Doe B!
R.I.P. To Ogb!
Rest in peace to every street n***a!