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lirik lagu leave it in the streets – skilla baby

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[intro]
can’t no n*gga ho me, heard the jackboys want me, stop it (the circle)
huh?
(mia jay c)
yeah, that’s more like it
huh, that’s more like it
ayy, huh
that’s more like it
haha
sing to me
ayy, huh
[chorus]
walk through tsa with thirty thousand in my pocket
every day i’m gettin’ fresh as f*ck, i know they watchin’
every n*gga know me know i’m ’bout a profit
can’t no n*gga ho me, heard the jackboys want me, stop it, hah
gettin’ all this money got my f*ckin’ head gone
let a n*gga run up on me, he gon’ get his head blown
all my opps, calm down, all my opps get a headstone
quick to get a n*gga smoked, my temper short, but my bread longk
ahh, i wanna k!ll a n*gga еvery time i get mad
thеn i calm down, pray to god, and talk to da
i load my strap up every time i hear they on my ass
then i get some money, i’m the youngest n*gga with the biggest bag

[verse]
i just got excited lookin’ in my stash
young n*gga so humble, up a hundred, i don’t even brag
shoot a fully in the n*gga whip, make that n*gga crash
when i seen an opp, jimmy neutron, i gotta blast
d*mn, i miss the scat’, man, i’m so used to goin’ fast
f*ck it, i’ma drop 580, it got more on the dash
i lost it all, i got it back, ain’t think about the past
i make them n*ggas feel me first because they put me last
dave been bookin’ me for shows, i gotta rock it
“tay b style” got me takin’ off like a rocket (huh?)
just sent my b*tch to mia on my josh sh*t
brought my fully out to shoot at anything look like my whip
ahh, sometimes i get mad
my family keep tellin’ me i sound like my dad
i’m a rich young n*gga, i ain’t houndin’ no strap
b*tches used to try to ho me, now i’m in my bag
i don’t need no money counter, i be countin’ my cash
every week, i stick another hundred thousand in my stash
any n*gga with a problem, take it up with wildman
i can’t believe my main mans turned into a calvin
my thick b*tch ride me like a horse, meg thee stallion
i got everything in my closet but some lanvins
every week, i put up thirty thousand, it’s practice
i call my lil’ n*ggas young kings, but they jack sh*t
i put my swipe n*gga on the court and let him hack sh*t
i came a long way from taylor, ‘tucky, makin’ crack flip
i live in a mansion, king*sized mattress
twenty*five hundred for the amiris with a bunch of patches
[chorus]
walk through tsa with thirty thousand in my pocket
every day i’m gettin’ fresh as f*ck, i know they watchin’
every n*gga know me know i’m ’bout a profit
can’t no n*gga ho me, heard the jackboys want me, stop it, hah
gettin’ all this money got my f*ckin’ head gone
let a n*gga run up on me, he gon’ get his head blown
all my opps, calm down, all my opps get a headstone
quick to get a n*gga smoked, my temper short, but my bread longk
ahh, i wanna k!ll a n*gga every time i get mad
then i calm down, pray to god, and talk to da
i load my strap up every time i hear they on my ass
then i get some money, i’m the youngest n*gga with the biggest bag (huh)

[outro]
then i get some money, i’m the youngest n*gga with the biggest bag
then i get some money, i’m the youngest n*gga with the biggest bag

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