lirik lagu street cat – zaytoven
[intro]
ayy (ayy)
smokin’ on that satellite (man, f*ck these hoes)
yeah, because it smoke right (ffff*beeep)
i’ve done been to the jail, i ain’t tryna go twice (beep)
you crazy on the internet, then why you actin’ so nice? (beep)
i got all this f*ckin’ ice (beep), i can have a snow fight (beep)
droptop down went to ‘deem (beep), and of course, he overlight
(i’m a street n*gga, dog, hoes love my style)
n*ggas white bricks day but i see f*ckin’ cold rice (beep)
(i’m a street n*gga, dog, hoes love my sty*)
ayy, ayy
[verse]
i’m a street n*gga, dog, hoes love my style
i should wrap the lamborghini black and white like a cow
what’s that sh*t up in my pocket n*gga it’s the .40 cal (bow)
they be seein’ a n*gga ballin’ n*gga herе they come to foul
baby momma keep on callin’ she likе, “get your f*ckin’ child”
i’m street n*gga, n*gga, i keep pistols tucked around
he was talkin’ crazy, they like “nah, he was f*ckin’ around”
i got folks here in with me and i’ll make em’ buck you down
i’m street n*gga p*ssy, i ain’t fakin’ for the clout
i got cash but my crazy cousin’ll take you for some pound
and i shoot crowds p*ssy, we’d shank ‘ya for some thou’s
i got blue faces, thottianas, make ’em buss it down
i’m a street n*gga p*ssy, i ain’t payin’ a hoe sh*t
they got cash apps on deck, i ain’t sendin’ hoes sh*t
he a peon ass n*gga, he done sent his ho a d*ck
at his dream girl house with gang in that hoe sh*t
i’m a street n*gga, dog, everybody know that
so a hater, get whacked, bond money on deck
when i got my first gun, i’m like, “i gotta blow that”
i should go back to dough runners and sellin’ dope sacks
i’m street n*gga, n*gga, i ain’t gotta prove that
oh, you tryna prove a point? well, why you gotta do that?
i should go to foster dealers and go buy the school back
i’m street n*gga, n*gga, that was where my school at
i’m street n*gga, n*gga, can you understand me?
you don’t speak engli’? how you say, “rubberband me”?
smokin’ on this stinky pack, flame up the gangrene
sosa what the opps on? n*gga, not a d*mn thing
i’m a street n*gga, dog, i don’t love no b*tch
i ain’t talkin’ to that b*tch unless she buy her own sh*t
unless she skrt, skrt, skrt*skrtin’ and riding in her own sh*t
b*tch steady buyin’ me sh*t, i can buy my own sh*t
i’m street n*gga, dog, i was jumpin’ off the porch
i had sprained my f*ckin’ ankle doin’ jumpin’ as a sport
stealin’ granny sh*t, now i’m takin’ nothin’ less a sport
we ain’t talkin’ to these n*ggas they ain’t nothin’ past a dork
i’m a doggy n*gga, baby, i know you love my fit
i ain’t got no b*tch, n*gga, how you f*ck my b*tch?
young street n*gga, dog, two revolvers and a stick
don’t let folks ‘nem hold it, they’ll steal ya f*ckin’ sh*t, ayy (bang)
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