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keak da sneak - t-shirt, blue jeans nikes lyrics

[verse 1l keak da sneak]
my family roll thick like syrup and milkshakes
transporting weight from the south to the golden state
swingin’ figure 8’s, burnin’ rubber, it’s hypo
in the middle of the intersection tryin’ to start up a sideshow
my mind go in other places cats don’t speak on
serve raw and uncut for you n-ggas to tweak on
i cl!ck on suckas ’cause they come out rappin’
so imagine whats gon’ happen when i catch you in traffic
who sell the most records in the bay? (you?)
independently (you?) no video or radio play (you?)
it’s been 86 murders since the start of 2002
when n-ggas bang turfs for the work, not that red and blue
and every single block is a street
where n-ggas holdin’ it down ’cause you know we gotta eat
they call me keak sneak, but my real name is kunta kinté
b-o-w-e-n, mayne

[hook: keak da sneak (repeat 2x)]
my n-gga told me don’t be scared
’cause i’mma run the streets just like…
t-shirt, blue jeans, and nikes
c0ke white t-shirt, blue jeans, and nikes
stay strapped with the 4-5, i wish a n-gga would try

[verse 2: e-40]
let me at ’em, keak
styles so unique and exquisite
gift of gab, and i spit it
i’m off this gunji, my ninja
i’m so d-mn twisted from smokin’ so much turtle i’m spliffed
went to court and got acquitted the other day ago
so i was up perkin’ early in the mornin’, yawnin’
off this high speed chase sh-t!
dang near caught a case wit’ it
hit the gas, skeet skirt, drivin’ fast, skeet skirt
in the slow lane, seeing stars, going against the grain
slappin’ this sh-t, that’ll f-ck wit ya brain boy!
this is your brain on thug…mode, i suppose
plenty hoes, pantyhose, five times, zeniths and vogues gold
24-inch toes, robbers, looking out for the h-lla-kizz-noppers
gettin’ my propers, pimp, i’m off the mainline
i represent heavy on the grizznind enter-game-ment
biatch!

[verse 3: keak da sneak]
i’m in the dope-fiend rental, tryin’ to paint the town
four-speed honda civic and i’m breakin’ it down
one head light plus i’m ridin’ spare
thermometer say a hundred, i’m takin’ him there
it was me and bra heff, ridin’ and smokin’
sidin’ in oakland, finna run it ’cause the a-frame broken
c0ke white t-shirt, blue jeans, and air max
came up high street, stopped on fairfax
hit the liquor store, i got to get me a remy
copped some light from lil’ o, forgot the tank on empty
so i hit e-1-4, ‘gimmie 10 on fo’
a box of philly t-tans, and a short box of dem ‘ports’
(muh-muh-more for me) if a n-gga don’t smoke
then i knock the baddest hoes when i ain’t on hundred spokes
gimme head, lemme poke…errything on him
i know her n-gga but she ain’t feelin’ him

- keak da sneak lyrics

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