In⁄Out (S.P.)
Sheek Louch Feat. Styles P
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Lyrics
Yo, D-Block
Styles P, you with me dog?
Hell yeah
Let's get 'em, yo
Let's go
You get smacked with the hammer nigga, play your position
Smack nigga
For rigamortis set in and you stay in position
Set in
Nigga I'll hawk your ass
Wanna fit in my shoes, and you cowards can't walk my path
And I don't know nobody fuckin' with us
I don't know nobody neither
I ain't Jerome Bettis, but if I hit you it's gon' feel like the bus
And you couldn't live this life and play this role
No doubt
In life, never part with your gun and stay this cold
Yo, we in the streets where it's nothin' but love
We in the streets, nothin' but love
I'm them leather shits, you the Michael Jackson glove
Bitch
I'm in the hood cause I'm dedicated
If I was you I woulda never made it
I'm holiday, so I'm celebrated
We don't reminisce, bitch-ass, remember that
Remember that
Styles' verse is the only thing I'm bringin' back
Bring it back
Tell the ghetto show discipline
What up?
I said Sheek gun Puerto Rican bullets, they whistlin'
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit
Yo, yo, yo, I guess I'm gettin' older
Cause everybody that I thought was hot go inside the garbage folder
Garbage
And nigga I'm from D-Block
D-Block
I'm on 3-5-4, I keep my heat cocked
And my blunt lit
The Mac out, take a piece of your back out
Raise it to your cheek, nigga, dare you to speak
Dare you
Shit I got plenty guns
Plenty guns
And thugs that'll give a nigga a hug
And say they'll stab anyone
And you ain't never seen a nigga jaw hangin' from his face
Never, uh-uh
Sausage shaped red shit hangin' from his waist
Nigga I'm well-connected, by the time you hear this I'll be in jail
But I probably got two cells connected
G-yeah
Gat in one hand, the other the lism
And if I push you down and wet you it's not baptism
Bitch this is mafia
Mafia
It don't stop 'til they put you in the dirt
With the flowers on top of ya
Yo, yo
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit
Yo, yo, Sheek goin' broke is not in the plans
I could sell gloves to a nigga with no hands
A lot of niggas screamin' they wolf, but I'm feelin' they sheep
I won't be happy 'til the niggas asleep
I'm punchin' niggas nose in, duckin' and bustin'
Cuttin' and cussin', hold that you bitch-ass nigga
And I can make the best die
Best die
Cut your throat open, pull your tongue through it
That's a fuckin' necktie
We turn a bitch nigga's skin maroon
Pump turn niggas voices like they hit a helium balloon
If Christ is comin' it oughta be now
I swear to God cause all y'all faggot niggas die accordin' to Styles
What nigga, you can get it for free
Put your money up, ain't nobody fuckin' with Louch and P
Yeah nigga that's what's up
That's what's up
D-Block to the death, motherfucker, so I gats up
D-Block, yeah, yeah
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit
Sheek and SP in and out, hard for the streets
Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats
Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit
Niggas try and front on us, cock that shit