• Vagalume
  • A-Z
  • Estilos
  • Top 100
  • Playlists
  • Rádio
  • Hot Spots
  • Notícias
  • Play

    Yo.. yo, yo, yo, yo
    (crime story, the title, I gotta get it however, whenever)
    All my niggas know (whoever, wherever) they live the streets
    Never go down! never go down!
    (follow me up one time like my man poppy da, you know?)
    I'm wit you son! I'm wit you!

    Time for some action, it was june first, me and my co' we ran up
    On a check-casher on tonka's and raw, I told her
    "tell it on that, funny with the money cuz the money ain't yours
    We got twenty hostages, I'm ready to die for this!"
    Squig said, "she movin too slow, I'm ready to pop this bitch!"
    Then he shot the bitch, and we had to move quick
    Grab the cash money and foodstamps and jetted towards the whip
    Jump started the vehicle, drove a block or two
    Looked in the rearview, noticed the boys in blue
    Then I bust a u-turn, you could smell the rubber burn
    I dusted 'em like a wet bag of sherms (ahhh!)
    Went uptown, slowed down and made a left at the light
    Started flowin, unboared, then she lept (stop! stop! stop!)
    Up in front of 27th warrant, we ran up in the buildin
    Bid with two duffle bags but at least I had it big (we came off!)
    Ran up in the crib, shut the door, the sweat started pourin
    That's when I heard the sirens roarin
    (yo, fuck the sirens, son we came off, we blastin
    Any nigga come in here we comin through, ah like...)

    We do the same shit in my projects
    Loungin, listenin to flex, just thinkin of crime
    In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes
    Some used to snort dimes and do robberies

    "come out with your hands up! we have you surrounded!"
    Heard it over boom-horn, one officer shouted
    I said, "this is it son, is you 'bout it? see you in hell!"
    Looked my man in the eyes, we started bustin off shells
    Goin all out, backin the atf down, 52 days, they nicorette style
    They got the sharpshooters out, on the project roof
    It's 12 o'clock noon, the old lady yelled, "don't shoot!"
    Then I heard a shot, my heart stopped
    Then my man dropped, I fucked with the glock
    (yo, what the fuck?) and got timed by four cops
    They cuffed me up, fucked me up, brought me to the precinct
    Ain't feedin me all weekend, all I was doin was thinkin
    I blew trial (damn!) and they threw the book at me and I'm still readin
    You could hear the stories over and over in the hood
    Got to live to regret, if I could take it back I would
    We planned to be like this, we both dead
    I hung it up cuz I couldn't hold my head
    (yo, these streets is terrible son!)

    We do the same shit in my projects
    Loungin, listenin to flex, just thinkin of crime
    In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes
    Some used to snort dimes and do stick-ups dunn!

    For real, without that we all be starvin
    Crime, without that we all be starvin

    Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor, envie uma correção »

    user 300 caracteres restantes. Enviar

    Todas as letras de Shyheim

    Mais notícias »
    Hot Spot
    Top Músicas do Vagalume
    Top 100 »

    As informações deste site são postadas integralmente pelos usuários. É importante dizer que é possível que os dados estejam desatualizados ou incorretos, sendo assim, o Vagalume exime-se de qualquer responsabilidade sobre as informações publicadas.Caso haja interesse em remover ou alterar alguma informação, entre em contato conosco.

    É permitida somente a visualização no site das letras de músicas encontradas aqui, vedada sua reprodução através de quaisquer outros meios (Lei 9610/98).Todas as letras de músicas são propriedade dos seus respectivos autores e divulgadas somente para fins educacionais.All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics are provided for educational purposes only.