Streets Cold Lyrics by Money Man & G Herbo
When that chopper spit, it sound like music to my ears (Poetry)
My lil’ n**** ran out of bullets in his stick, I told him, “Reload”
Bought my cousin a Louis puffer for his birthday ’cause the streets cold
Better keep your blower on the East, these n***** too foul
You better keep extendos in your Glock so you don’t run out
That n**** tried to flee, but like a cheetah, he got ran down
Where I’m from, you gotta be a man, it ain’t no handouts
N***** ain’t authentic, they just lies, they can’t fool the kid
Nah, that bitch don’t love a n**** for real, she tryna use the kid
I can feel the dark side tryna come and pollute my mind
If you scared, then stay inside the house, ’cause outside, n***** dyin’
Bondin’ with my killers, makin’ sure that we spend time together
Ain’t nobody snitchin’ in this circle, we’ll do time together
Turn this bitch to Squid Games and make a n**** kill his partner
Attachments on that handgun make it look like it’s a baby chopper
We finna blitz on these n***** for real
You can get snatched if you playin’ the field
He a liability, I know he gon’ squeal
Don’t appreciate you when you keepin’ it real
Time to pop shit, I was humble too long
It’s too late to beg when them weapons is drawn
Keep the ‘za, I’m online when they call
BC the Circle, forever gon’ ball
Gotta stay solid, we never gon’ fall
Tryna stay free, so we duckin’ the law
20K blew, we just tore down the mall
Long live the gang, we not fuckin’ with y’all
Pull out the fire, now they lookin’ appalled
Lil’ vibe with me and she look like a doll
Just caught the play, it was me and my dogs
If they would’ve tried, then we would’ve let off, yeah
When that chopper spit, it sound like music to my ears (Poetry)
My lil’ n**** ran out of bullets in his stick, I told him, “Reload”
Bought my cousin a Louis puffer for his birthday ’cause the streets cold
Better keep your blower on the East, these n***** too foul
You better keep extendos in your Glock so you don’t run out
That n**** tried to flee, but like a cheetah, he got ran down
Where I’m from, you gotta be a man, it ain’t no handouts
Yeah, in my hood, I’m the man now
Only thing we passin’ out is Glocks, ain’t no handouts
Thirty shots against your thirty shots, it’s a standoff
He can’t hustle, we hit him with a bundle, n**** ran off
What’s the number? Get up in that huddle and we cash out (Ay)
Plenty drugs, give ’em to my uncle, it’s a pass out
Havin’ racks, we ain’t worried ’bout that until the last one out
Real thrax, they gon’ come right back ’cause they passin’ out, what’s the demo?
And we handle business, uh, yeah, what’s the bino?
Money real long, went from bus to limo
Team real strong, got a bunch of ‘stendos
And we in some rentals, turn and drop the window
Folks was teachin’ me ’bout poles, but learned what I didn’t know (Ay)
Ay, Money Man, I know ’bout ‘bows, but I don’t know ’bout crypto
Deep in these streets, they’ll take your soul if you don’t got no grip, though
And we ain’t killin’ ’bout no hoes, you get killed ’bout your lip, though
We quick to let that switch go, because
When that chopper spit, it sound like music to my ears (Poetry)
My lil’ n**** ran out of bullets in his stick, I told him, “Reload”
Bought my cousin a Louis puffer for his birthday ’cause the streets cold
Better keep your blower on the East, these n***** too foul
You better keep extendos in your Glock so you don’t run out
That n**** tried to flee, but like a cheetah, he got ran down
Where I’m from, you gotta be a man, it ain’t no handouts
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