Cappadonna, Rush - Street Flavor lyrics

Uh, huh
(yeah) uh huh (my fuckin' Street Flavor)
Fuckin' ping-pong head (Ratchet Rush)
Street Flavor
(fifty-one, thirty-six) Street Flavor
Ya new neighbor, nigga
(give it to ya niggas one time)
Betcha jump up on my dick now
Shit is bonkers you fucking idiot

Wicker man, trigger man
Post on top of the hill
Get a Gram', flip a grand
Try and hop through a mill
If I blew the steele
Concealed at the top of my sweats
I pop you for real
Aim for the top of your chest
Fuck the respect, power's all I need today
In that LC Lex so I can speed away, you know?
I don't think so, I didn't expect you to
You got powers, plus cops posted next to you
Listen to the cash flow, rap flow like Fidel
Castro, asshole, dude you get in the shell
Oooh, we sippin' the L, cee-lo
Blowin' sticky-sticky navigator posted
Sittin' high on them mickey-mickeys
Watch 'em drop fifty in yo city
From that icky-icky
Calico, strip 'em shells through
Your whole residential
See only presidents be blowin' spliffy
Like a rasta wit me that chopper with me
Pop a copper just for actin' iffy
Leave 'em stank and pissy
Cali pearl handle murder murder
Burn by my sermon
I'mma hurt 'em when I turn it on 'em
Steady serving on 'em
Swervin' 'on 'em in that fishy-fishy
V12, Lex drop, blow ya top, tippy-tippy

I destroy mics quick, leave parties crippled
Get down on the track, just sweat and ripple
Start commotion when I rap
My steeze'll get you
Only if you hood for real, my steeze hit you
Butterfly fuck niggas, bees'll sting you
Niggas that sling dope
I hope the d's don't get you
Stay on the low, kid, breeze with the pistol
For all my real niggas get
G's with the pistol
Hold your hood down, nigga
Cheese is the issue
Raise your guns up, nigga
Squeeze and let loose

Ready quickly niggas know I gets busy
Made 'em lifty-lifty off the ground
When the pound hit, at a miscy muffler's rap
It ain't no sound bitch, now remy marty
Marty crown with the light Bacardi
Now I wanna fight somebody
Nigga, pass the shotty-shotty
Twizzy twelve gauge
Mossberg with the stocks off
Shoot ya block off
With the mack when I pop off
Fuck the drop off
Take the paper straight to papi papi
I've been cookin' cutter that's pitching
On your blocky blocky
Snitches try to stop me
Sending word to the copy copy
But, I'm never sloppy, so I
Beat it, nigga watch me, watch me
Like a big screen
Fifty inches in the living room
Just consider moves, that I make
Type forbidden dude
Niggas tend to do, what they see
Like a baby baby
Sonny acting shady with three eighties
On they lady lady
Maybe they won't play from a distance
Lizzy long range
This is strong game, like Gotti tephlon frame
You stepped on chains
Just respected to the Pocono's
Cappa smoking bones
Of that sticky-icky malibu
Bizzy green as a moon, no
We gon' throw it up
Put it in the air, Don pizzy P, Mo' it up
Yeah, nigga, Street Flavor
4-4-3-3-0-6-9-7-6-2, nigga
We do what we gotta do
Ratchet Rush, nigga Don Don, what's up
Goon Squad Hooligan