Hoover Street

  • I got that work, fuck Labor Day, just bought a gun
    Fuck punching in, throwing rocks, no hopscotch
    Bet my 9 milli hit the right spot
    Bang, last night it was a dream
    This morning a fantasy
    Back when the only fan I had was a fiend
    Meet me by the Acura cause the cops like
    To get help from the store camera, they always in my cornea
    But it's cool I've been catching on to they formula
    See I'm a real loc, my street sign I'll kill fo'
    Then rewind my Indo, then unroll my rillo
    The bad guy never once been a hoes hero
    He get zero, I said nada
    Bitch pass the cama (Uh, yeah)
    How'd it feel to be a real nigga? (I'm a product of a real nigga)
    La-la familia (Get confronted by a real nigga)
    Fuck with one of my real niggas
    (It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball)
    How'd it feel to be a real nigga?
    (It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball)
    How'd it feel to be a real nigga (My whole life I've been a real nigga)
    La-la familia (Get confronted by a real nigga)
    Fuck with one of my real niggas
    (It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball)
    How'd it feel to be a real nigga?

    I done jumped off my ass
    Hit the lick and barely pass but I quickly got to balling
    2012 ain't really happen
    So I guess it's back to trapping, eyes open night to morning
    Had roaches in my cereal
    My uncle stole my stereo, my grandma can't control him

    But, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
    But, click-clack, pow-pow-pow (Boom, nigga)
    But, meet Glock clock familia (Boom)

    Find a nigga realer than me, my socks stink
    Eat so much pussy that my mustache pink
    Strapping, my pants seam, no need for a belt
    Gangsta lean help, hoodie on backwards with the eyes cut out
    My hate felt, my .45 elder, poetry's deep
    I never fail ya, Schoolboy bust flame
    Orange-yellow, higher than Margiela's
    Since a young nigga I admired the crack sellers, seen my uncle steal
    From his mother, now that's the money that I'm talking 'bout
    Think about it, the smoker ain't got shit and everyday he still get a hit
    Whether jacking radio's or sucking dick
    Sell his kids and chop his wrists and sealing his lips
    'Cause he don't want the feds arresting his fix, didn't take much
    To get me convinced, coincidence that I ain't fucking with work
    Unless we rewind and answer my church
    Times getting harder than my dick on a growth spurt
    Around the same time all you niggas was on purp
    My sober ass was snatching her purse, make the ice cream truck freeze
    Give me the keys, extra Frito's, chili and cheese
    Thew some Baby Lucas in his eyes before I leave
    The cops'll never get the leak, grandma taught me well
    And my uncle gun was the accessories, 211 sipping plus a robbery
    This little Piggy went to market, this little Piggy carry chrome

    I done jumped off my ass
    Hit the lick and barely pass but I quickly got to balling
    2012 ain't really happen
    So I guess it's back to trapping, eyes open night to morning
    Had roaches in my cereal
    My uncle stole my stereo, my grandma can't control him

    But, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
    But, click-clack, pow-pow-pow (Boom, nigga)
    But, meet Glock clock familia (Boom)

    Grandma said she loved me, I told her I loved her more
    She always got me things that we couldn't afford
    The new J's and Tommy Hill in my drawers
    Sega Genesis, Nintendo 64, see Golden Eye was away at war
    We wasn't thinking of getting money then
    Nor did I wonder why my uncle done sold his Benz
    'Cause he been tripping now, he sweats a lot and slimming down
    I also notice moms be locking doors when he around
    But anyways, his wife done left him and now he living with us
    My bike is missing, grandma light a hotter chick every month
    My uncle's nuts, he used to give me Whisky to piss in cups
    Knocking on the door telling me to hurry up, he in a rush
    I gave it to him then got my ass whipped for doing it
    Moms used to tell me like "Nigga, know who you dealing with"
    Them was the good days 'til I was raised the older ways
    Rat-Tone my niggas' brother showed me my first K
    I was amazed, me and Floyd was in the back, he called us over like "Hey"
    Yak, yak, yak, yak! We like "Damn, nigga"
    Then again, yak, yak! We like "Damn, nigga"
    Hearing him say 'cause turned us to a fan, nigga
    Later on he got locked so know we're taking his fades
    Continue the chapter from his life, we flipping that page
    Gangbanging was a ritual and grandma would help
    She should've never left her gun on the shelf
    This little Piggy went to market, this little Piggy carry chrome

    I done jumped off my ass
    Hit the lick and barely pass but I quickly got to balling
    2012 ain't really happen
    So I guess it's back to trapping, eyes open night to morning
    Had roaches in my cereal
    My uncle stole my stereo, my grandma can't control him

    But, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
    But, click-clack, pow-pow-pow (Boom, nigga)
    But, meet Glock clock familia (Boom) Writer/s: MARK ANTHONY SPEARS, QUINCEY HANLEY
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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