Meth · Ghost · Rae - Dangerous lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You know the deal, nigga
Sha, what's good nigga?
Lex Diamond, your big brother here, you know?
Let's work this shit out, man
Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyo, aiyo

Fresh out the jungle where the blue boys run
We carry rugers
Smoking toast on your throat like oolas
Hitting reefer, playing my square
Windbreaker jacket
Holding my beer, rock and roll in my lear
I have to eat, gun carefully
Let the cocaine bling
Strings is nothing, get your ho clapped, king
We hundred burners, onion turners, all this
Came out the yard
With twenty five to lifers, loving my squad
You know the gun show off, whips is gleaming
Clean as a fuck


In dirty hallways, the ninas'll cluck
This is crime station
My obligation is to look raw as ever
Feed my little sons and patients
Cuz they hungry, shining
Bullet fly right through the lining
Catch me on the plane, humble and wining
Feeding me, fresh niggas, downtown
Brooklyn in them brook lands
Is Timbed up, looking for them jookes
With my miss and

Yo, the streets is a part of me
What you witnessing now is don archery
Pack a lambskin hostler
One of these rocks'll slump you over
You ain't nothing, you'se a bitch ass poser
Bleeding from your face, on a T-shirt
Thinking that you MVP underneath'll be RIP
That's what you get, yo, for being so cocky
Two guns, thumbs up, for me and my posse

Yo, what's the science, little nigga? Yo
You beefing too hard
I throw five in your Champ hood
And envy your squad
You try to stick out your fucking hand
Nah, I don't want no dap, nigga
Fucking lucky you ain't get glammed
Bitch ass nigga, you wrong, yo
You mingle with rats
The other day you got caught with the gat
Nigga how you home
Nigga? Why you even up in my square?
Like you get busy
Got the block hot and stare
Fresh coffins fast, they spitting
Ya'll fake bitches snitches get mad love
Hundred and eight stitches
My condolences, word life
If they can find you a real killa
Someone close is singing like the Jonases
Crime Stoppers, the tips keep pouring in
For a G, you be suprised who's going in
Block huggers
The ones who be holding they jock
Can suck my cock, the real cock lovers

Yo, the streets is a part of me
What you witnessing now is don archery
Pack a lambskin hostler
One of these rocks'll slump you over
You ain't nothing, you'se a bitch ass poser
Bleeding from your face, on a T-shirt
Thinking that you MVP underneath'll be RIP
That's what you get, yo, for being so cocky
Two guns, thumbs up, for me and my posse

Ya'll can call me cook up or come back
My flow hot, my hood hot, cuz of one rap
My block on fire cuz of one match
I stick to paper like thumbstacks
These cougars wanna play with these
Young cats with pussy, turning boys to men
So I resort to the pen
But at the same time, avoiding the pen
And now it's game time, nigga
You in? You better thicken your skin
Move with your peoples through the
Thick and the thin
I watch for po-po, they raiding the crib
And I ain't trying to get jammed
And have the next man raising my kids
God forbid, dudes be hating on his
Because a nigga go hard
And hit 'em harder then they saying they is
But that's just New York, I carry the torch
Just long enough
To light a Newport and carry this thought
Fuck what you thought, the bigger the boss
Bigger the cost
They don't know about the Tribe of Shabazz
Niggas is lost

Yo, the streets is a part of me
What you witnessing now is don archery
Pack a lambskin hostler
One of these rocks'll slump you over
You ain't nothing, you'se a bitch ass poser
Bleeding from your face, on a T-shirt
Thinking that you MVP underneath'll be RIP
That's what you get, yo, for being so cocky
Two guns, thumbs up, for me and my posse