Edo. G, Pete Rock, Diamond D - Streets Is Callin lyrics

Yeah, EdoG, nigga uh, Diamond D, nigga
Jaysaun, nigga yeah what! Yo

I spit the factuals
Planned out tactical to capture you
No preservatives, additives, all natural
I'm too practical
Makin hit's don't tacker you
Ball in TWO eras, like Shaq or Bob McAdoo
The 80s' showed us what the
Guns and crack'll do shackle you
You movin forward or you standing still
The look of hate, we try to avoid
Cause it's easily annoyed when
It's hungry or unemployed
Before my team gets deployed
And shit gets destroyed
Life is not to be lost, it's to be enjoyed
When lights flash off, ideas get passed off
You either doin nothing or you
Workin your ass off
There ain't no in between, when you intervene
Especially when you in the Bean
Get blown to smithereens
You ain't gotta agree or okay it
Disagree with what I say
But respect my right to say it mother-

If you listen real close, my nigga
You gon' hear the streets callin (callin)
While you stuck in that 9-to-5
We chillin overseas toruin (we tourin)
You swear that you rock the spot but, son
Your stage show's boring (boring)
The answering machine is full so
Tell these hoes stop callin (stop callin)

When the four-fifths lift
It'll shift all your back discs
Iron wrist style with a
Swift spinnin back fist
Knock you off your axis
We do this just for practice
Maybe just to keep the skills
Sharper than the cactus
We don't fear none, never shotta fear one
Walk through the city
Torch your hood with a flare gun
In LA, sip Parrot Bay and Lime Rickey
Rock Chuckers and crisp Dickies
Grinnin and sportin big hickeys
Diamond D, Jaysaun, and EdoG
Swiss cheese you with the chrome max
For snitchin on them phone taps
Organized crime, we buggin on your landlines
It's us who booby trapped your
Tour bus with the landmines
We ride in Mass plates in Celtics jerseys
Assassinatin rappers from Cali
To the Tri-State
You in a deep sleep, physique street sweeped
In your Jeep
Slumped over in them burgandy seats
We gon' miss you

Yo, now when the bulls come runnin
I'ma plead the fifth
Screamin out the sunroof like, "Eat a dick!"
You can find me at the
Four Seasons beatin a chick
And I'm old school
I still smoke weed in the flicks
So what the fuck y'all want from me?
I don't play those games son
Nobody gotta front for me
You a girly man, couldn't do a 1-to-3
And you'll get it in the back
If you run from me
Exqui-zy, I'ma raise the stakes
I got 'em in the kitchen butt naked
Whippin up eggs and steaks
And if I, let off two shots
Your legs'll break get my hands on the pipe
Give your man a white
Niggas heavy on the lactose and
Light on the raw and you feel like a man
When you fightin your whore
Gave me a funny look and
Landed right on the floor
And you can still see the knuckle
Prints right on your jaw