Featuring: Carlton Fisk
Songwriter: Carlton Fisk Streetlife
Producer: Mathematics
[Intro: Streetlife (Carlton Fisk)]
Yeah (yeah) Ain't where you from (it's where you at)
You got the blunt (I got the mack)
You got the clip (I got the gat)
You got the -- you got the clip (I got the gat)
You got my front (I got your back)
It's like, that, (it's that that, it's like that), yeah, yeah
[Streetlife]
Shaolin what? Blood, guts and monster trucks
Come through, splash mud on your three piece tux
Niggas act bulletproof like they can't get touched
Don't make hop out the sunroof and start hittin' you up
I'm out of control, when the dough's low, rob the tolls
Never catered a whole bomb with with cons and pro's
I might, snatch your jewels, pawn your gold
Call, P.O.'s be like, "fuck parole"
Y'all done forgot the code, and became a mole
Watch me, drop and load, fire, in the hole
Yeah, you changed the game, started sayin' names
When your ass get shot, the cops know who to blame
You watch too much movies, wanna be O-Dog and Cain
Or 2Pac, everybody wanna act insane
Feel my pain, rap niggas is dyin' for fame
Feel my pain, rap niggas is dyin' for fame
[Chorus: Carlton Fisk (Streetlife)]
You wanna rap? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Tour the map? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Lounge in the back? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Platinum plaque? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
[Streetlife]
Most of y'all rap cats is weak, talk is cheap
Check my rap sheet, it's concrete, strictly Street
I put in work, overtime, I barely sleep
Hail, rain, and sleet, I walks the beat
Fuck police, no justice, no peace
Fuck the judge, for feeding my thugs to the beast
I know the ledge, that's why I keeps one in the head
Make one false move, feel your body with lead
I'm true to the game, stay true to my name
Off the chain, quick to put two in your brain
I'm from the Hill, where niggas shoot to kill
Test my skill, nigga I, wished you will
Don't front for me, give niggas, lumps in three
I beat you down, in front ya moms, wife and seed
Call your months, I'm about to call your bluff
You ain't, nuts, word up, you straight ass and butt
Shaolin, what, who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?
[Chorus]
[Outro: Carlton Fisk (Streetlife)]
Stretch cadillac? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Blow ya stack? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Flip ya hat? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Pimp like the mac?
Yeah (yeah) Ain't where you from (it's where you at)
You got the blunt (I got the mack)
You got the clip (I got the gat)
You got the -- you got the clip (I got the gat)
You got my front (I got your back)
It's like, that, (it's that that, it's like that), yeah, yeah
[Streetlife]
Shaolin what? Blood, guts and monster trucks
Come through, splash mud on your three piece tux
Niggas act bulletproof like they can't get touched
Don't make hop out the sunroof and start hittin' you up
I'm out of control, when the dough's low, rob the tolls
Never catered a whole bomb with with cons and pro's
I might, snatch your jewels, pawn your gold
Call, P.O.'s be like, "fuck parole"
Y'all done forgot the code, and became a mole
Watch me, drop and load, fire, in the hole
Yeah, you changed the game, started sayin' names
When your ass get shot, the cops know who to blame
You watch too much movies, wanna be O-Dog and Cain
Or 2Pac, everybody wanna act insane
Feel my pain, rap niggas is dyin' for fame
Feel my pain, rap niggas is dyin' for fame
[Chorus: Carlton Fisk (Streetlife)]
You wanna rap? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Tour the map? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Lounge in the back? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Platinum plaque? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
[Streetlife]
Most of y'all rap cats is weak, talk is cheap
Check my rap sheet, it's concrete, strictly Street
I put in work, overtime, I barely sleep
Hail, rain, and sleet, I walks the beat
Fuck police, no justice, no peace
Fuck the judge, for feeding my thugs to the beast
I know the ledge, that's why I keeps one in the head
Make one false move, feel your body with lead
I'm true to the game, stay true to my name
Off the chain, quick to put two in your brain
I'm from the Hill, where niggas shoot to kill
Test my skill, nigga I, wished you will
Don't front for me, give niggas, lumps in three
I beat you down, in front ya moms, wife and seed
Call your months, I'm about to call your bluff
You ain't, nuts, word up, you straight ass and butt
Shaolin, what, who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?
[Chorus]
[Outro: Carlton Fisk (Streetlife)]
Stretch cadillac? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Blow ya stack? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Flip ya hat? (Who the fuck wanna be an M.C.?)
Pimp like the mac?