Chamillionaire, Stat Quo, Soulja Slim, B.G. - In These Streets lyrics

Trill is the answer
You thought you knew it, you blew it
That's why they drew it
The pistol, soon as it hit you
You wished you did never do it
Bang 'til your brain did spew it
Houston is full of sewage
It's true, it ain't nothing to
It, they'll do it, act like you knew it
See I ain't really gotta prove it
Look around and it show
Cause most of these niggas we used to
Know ain't even around here no mo'
But don't drown in your
Flow, cause it's deep
I look around and hell no
This is ain't Cleveland
It don't be freezing but boys
Around here with snow
And they finding my ho
And they think she on the
Side when she with him
She riding and flipping in your car
You seen that wire that's sticking?
Out her bra, federal car right behind him is
Picking his ass up
But damn bro, they done found them a victim
Walk with me through that spaceship city
Where that 9 is that law
Channel 13 preview that scene
Who did the crime to that boy?
Walk in on that red carpet
Ain't the kind that the stars be walking on
Chalk is shown, outline what they draw, damn

It's real on these streets
Niggas be toting heat on these streets
Putting busters to sleep on these streets
Playing for keeps in these keeps
All to eat off these streets
Your momma weep
Cause now you lay dead in these streets

Where I'm from we play it raw
We cutthroat and bout our bidness
Some call it New Orleans but
I nicknamed it Chopper City
It's the home of the Hornets
And the home of the Saints
But don't get that name twisted
We'll toss you off in a lake
If you want work
We'll tell you we got weight
Tax him 22 for a burner, flower or cake
Nigga ride fly, in Benzes on 22's
Double back, drop 26's under the H2
I'm a fool wit it, hoes be like I want him
Fresh dickie shirt over my tee
With some bo's and tim's
I'm a Hot Boy, if you ain't know
Ask somebody
On Valence and Magnolia I'm like
The Don John Gotti
Don't try me or you'll end up a nobody
On a front of a tee
With your people second line
And it's like that
I ain't the one to size up
Cause if you do me that
Then I'mma have to fire up

Track bang, track bang
Pimp ho like good game
A goddamn shame, that boy there got good aim
Across the globe he got
Pulled like hair strains
Stat Quo the beast, Big Bread my nickname
Trunk pop at the show, my verse is spiritual
Test me and your condition
Will end up critical
Started from the A, why he spit so lyrical?
I write for the hood
He a South Coast miracle for the strippers
Hustlers and common criminals
9 to 5 workers, lieutenants and generals
Correlation to struggle
The grind will injure you
It takes more than crutches to make
It through I'm telling you

What you're hearing is Uptown
Is y'all familiar with that sound?
A hundred rounds will gun you down
Put your bitch ass underground
Now what I want you to know
See I'm a general
Is there Heaven or Hell? Tell
Me where the killers go
My pill busting slow, fill up the dro
I'm bout to tell 'em what they need to know
Don't fuck with us, we creeping low
He out that 13th, he out that 17th
I'm out that motherfucking 3-9
Who want beef?
I'll be damned if grown killers stay humble
I could get ya killed
Without upping the bundle
Magnolia, that's my project
Never called it a jungle
Keep a spot on the block and
A key of dope to fumble
When I'm down south hustling
Get paid in many ways
If your lick over a hundred G's
I'm coming to bust yo head
I say fuck the Feds and I'll say it again
From the streets to the pen
I play the game to win