lirik lagu in the streets – infamous crew
[verse 1: twc / cannons]
i come from the land full of teams and they’ all trying to be number 1 in these streets, so i’m packing the heat, coroners bagging the meat, k!lling mother f-ckers while i rap on this beat, putting holes in your body from your head to your feet, if you thought sh-t was sweet, than prepare for defeat, i’m coming with the piece ’til your crew is deceased and yo blood is released with ur brains on ur sheets, better not to f-ck with the beast, screaming f-ck the police, middle finger up to the peace, better duck when i skeet, leave you slumped in your seat, and your other homie’s dead in the street
[verse 2: cricket]
your homie’s dead in the street but i wish it was a pig, i like the smell of swine when it raises from the crypt and i think that’s legit, man the rage that i spit hits hard like an anvil dropped on your d-ck, or a leech on a cl-t, and i know that i’m sick but i just won’t quit, and don’t hate on me you hypocrite, i just say what you think like you eat what i sh-t, and i eat like a pr-ck, flow like a fountain, thin like a stick, the bars i spit get you high as sh-t, unlike the bowl that you hit, cuz the weed that you get is straight raunchy as sh-t, sh-t dirty like a snotty rag, dirty like my style put fools in a body bag, some don’t know how to act, been a g since the age of 8 like a pontiac
[verse 3: cricket]
my enemies get smacked up when they start to act up, bring out a shank and they back up, when the heat turn on you can see em start to pack up – but i love it, i shrug it, “f-ck it”, put away the musket, fools so petty like a drop in a bucket, man i’m above it, like jordan to a rim in 96, slam dunking, str8 bustin, keep a lock in a sock in case you see a cop, watch the little piggy drop, give ’em a concussion, man when you rush ’em leave the blood gushing, trust ’em with nothing and bust ’em- s-d-stic, look at the statistic, it’s unusual the pig be the victim, tie a doughnut to a fish pole and trick ’em, drag ’em blocks down the street till you rip ’em
[verse 4: twc / cannons]
so im coming real sleek, never let my victims speak, so you’ll never hear a peep, choppin heads off while i reap, and i never skip a beat, bustin racists with the heat, feeling froggy take a leap, run you over with the jeep, with the strap under the seat, then i dump you in the sea, while i’m smokin on the tree, soon you gonna see, that you f-cking with a g, and my city never sleeps, cuz the gangs runnin it deep, in the rammer while they creep, bustin clappers on your team, blood is flowin like a stream as they skeeting out the scene, hammers smokin like the steam, and they had the red beam so you didn’t evn have a chance to scream
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