Angie Martinez › Lyrics › Live From the Streets

Oh senorita, when the evening sun go down
I come to serenade you from another part of town

Let's get it on, it's Angie Mar' reportin' live from the streets
From Y.O. to Philly and Harlem to Q.B.
When it drops, it's game over, you'll see
Introducing Jadakiss and Styles P, where you at?

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
You know we still in the hood dog, in front of the store
With the work across the street and the gun in the stall
Soon as somethin' happen niggaz wanna run to the law
You know the code of the streets, never run to the law

That's why I can't even run 'less I run with a four
Or I walk with a three, come and talk to 'em P
You can catch me down bottom with a bird and a glock
On the block makin' money where they murder a lot

Or you can catch me up top shootin' dice for a yard
I'm talkin' six digits, niggaz bet the house or the car
You can catch me hittin' the spliff, sick in the pit
On the fiend like I'm missin' my s***, they think I'm crazy

Catch me hittin' your lady in my Mercedes
Bird on your baby, f*** you, I'm keepin' it gravy
L.O.X. hold the hammers like we waitin' for screws
With Angie Mar' blowin' m************ out of they shoes, what?

Comin' live from the streets where some died tryin' to eat
From Y.O. to Philly, from Harlem to Q.B.
And when it drops, game over, you'll see
Introducin' Beanie Siegel, tell me how you livin'?

Aiyyo, I've been kickin' murder since Adidas with thick strings
T.I. sweat suits, Pumas with thick chains
Four finger rings, black belts with brass names
I was spittin' flames since niggaz was pitchin' change

I'm a hard knock kiddo, always played the middle
Threw flacks in the crack game, getchu if I can getchu
Since a buck, played the highway, dodgin' the troop boys
Jumpin' in and out of Coupes, wavin' for Duke boys

Always chased a penny, copped quarter waters
Tried to make a dollar chased my pop's boss daughters
Tryin' to make my name, global, in all four corners
Philly baller, gamin' in all four quarters

Never worked, never will, all my hoes buy my clothes
I can't go broke, never will, all my bros buy my O's
I'm the best thing that linked up with New York since Sprewell
I murder, nuttin' further, fill in the details

I'm here, it's over, f*** how y'all feel
When I drop, y'all gon' realize it's all real
Bein' left for dead, tied up, smoke 'til I was dried up
So high up, seem like the sky ducked, high what?

Life was rough but now it's nothin' to hide
Used to click and be quick to put this gun to yo' side
Be like, that chain nice, I like that pal
Matter fact I'd like that now

You've got game? Call the name, just spell the name right
Brett, one of the best rappers ever to touch a mic
It's prophesied I'd write, spit scriptures mind blowin'
'Til my coffin top close and heaven skies open

Fear no man's my slogan, I hope y'all believe
I'm just like you, fear nuttin' human that bleeds
My mind breed two movies, six albums, a hundred poems

Thirty R&B joints, I'm beyond the norm, y'all just mad
I'm just glad, got my time to shine
Y'all the type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes

Brett from my ByStorm family, with Angie
Come live from the streets, from Harlem to Q.B.
And when it drops, game over, you'll see
Introducin', finally, the legendary Kool G.

It's B.G.S. kid so what you facin'? Caps racin'
Decapitation twenty buck-fifties and lacerations
Guerrilla fam' camouflaged out in the grass waitin'
To blass your nation, slash like Jason and bash your face in

We ass lacin' top bodies and half in the basement
Our style, cast you so bad you'll need plastic replacement
When gats is raised in, fascination blastin' and blazin'
Evacuation for your whole staff there's gas in the tank and

Gets back abrasions from cap grazin', defy gravitation
Pull my s*** back, squeeze, bust it like masturbation
Hold fort, hold the blow torch, leave your soul scorched
With no remorse, the state of New York, get your s*** caught

When niggaz hawk, let the fifth talk
So tell me who's the next man to flip?
I stop the b*** s*** with rubber handled grips
Your candle get lit, guerrilla s*** feed us banana clips
The hammers hit, anything in our range we dismantle it

Like to say thanks to my street correspondents
For gettin' on this comin' live and direct with no nonsense
Sorry folks for hurtin' y'all, the previous has been brought
To you by 'Up Close and Personal'