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Street Glory
Qb's Finest Song Lyrics
(NAS) (Intro) Uhh, still out in these motherfuckin projects Still a nigga ain't never gonna get the fuck up outta here Niggaz just don't understand the story Chorus: (Pop) Niggaz die for the street glory Go to trial get tried for each story And each nigga got a story And QB the streets call me So if you see me slippin' reach for me I'm goin' after street glory Go to trial get tried for each story And each nigga got a story And QB the streets call me So if you see me slippin' reach for me I'm goin' after street glory (NAS) Yo, Every time I turn around niggaz shot, niggaz stabbed When tonight's pregnant girls struggling to get a cab Fiends lurkin', D's searchin' pat pockets Kids put to bed duck they heads from gas poppin' Queensbridge slingin' hoppin' our benches Don status, throw feeds, got sirenges Poppin' out they arm scratched Now remember parked (???) Cuz' else perfect ways, shell adidas Smellin' reefer way before purple haze Private stock peer nigga with ill walks like Mark Clare Has tilted wild niggaz lickin' shots in the air Me and Pop was there through the years our names have switched Ain't nothin' changed but the names Nastradamus and Blitz What project is this? QB burnin' in tint 12th street murderous pimps, hot as hell's heat What could you tell me? Niggas seen it all in this game When it's all said and done just remember our name (Pop) I'm familiar with the dead grass drama black gates and crime Embryo of the ghetto born face and time Niggas shatter they dreams while I'm chasing mine Ghetto fame got a fellow's name draped and shined How do I describe an atmosphere where streets are polluted? Where corruptors and new police being recruited Somehow I make it through the day stayin' secluded While the blues aim leavin' another slain, executed Many thought's cause I see the past grimmly That could've been me, explodes out on 41st and 10th street Through all the pap grease and street chases Sudden raids and confrontations leadin the misdeamenor weed cases I blew smoke through hallway window Watched the buddah clouds lingo Pluckin the blunt brokes from my fingers My eyes flip different shades Similar to people you meet everyday who be displayin' wicked ways Seein' nothing but another day In this six story rat trap Them gats clap another nigga's blazed Events in my hood rotate Like the battle on the 38 snob in the world of fake love Before I blaze son, I'm kissing the slugs Coming at you kisses and hugs When death calls who's really a thug The street glory got me deeply in love Can't shake it, can't take it, can't make it Got me needin' this drug (Chorus) |
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