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styles p - felony niggas lyrics

[verse 1]
shhh (two guns up mothaf-cka, two guns up mothaf-cka (overlap))
real sh-t…styles p sh-t..
if p want you dead, i ain’t comin’ wit n-ggas
just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor
so ya homies got something to pour
that’s that old school sh-t
i ain’t tryin’ to put you under the floor
i’m tryin’ ta bang n-ggas over the clouds
and i heard you say you rich
so you can’t get lower than styles
k!ll everybody dead just so noone can smile
play the streets my whole life and i been flowin’ a while
biget i rock, ever since my n-gga was shot and my other n-gga
will shoot sh-t i’m tellin’ the truth
if i lie, may i die in the middle of the verse
my n-ggas hustle from first to first
twelve months in a year
gun on your waist, blunt in your ear
pack in your sock, crate at the back of the block
with a fiend watchin’ for narcs till the sh-t get dark
we hop in the hoop ride, instead of the six
while you lookin’ for a b-tch, we lookin’ for a brick
that we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix
catch me ot gettin’ sixty a shift
holidy styles, n-gga i ain’t nothin’ but streets
just as hard as the sh-t, that be under your feet
and the only time i front is with a blunt in the beak
to show n-ggas that i’m nice and they ain’t f-ckin’ wit me

[verse 2]
all i know is drugs and guns
and plenty of weed
and that b-tch that suck d-ck
and n-ggas that bleed
and if you’re rich before you go
get a watch and a drop
you better hit the court house
and better bail out the block
if your son ain’t worth sh-t
n-ggas’ll smuggle your daughter
i come through in a porshe
the same color as water
i got weight, what you want
i can cover the order
they call me boss when i cross the border
six shot “caught her?”
i hear n-ggas say my face is screwed
but i’ll put six in your stomach n-gga
lace your food
scream “f-ck every rapper” that hate that i’m rude
but that’s that sp sh-t, you can take it or move
we can let the bullets spill, till we all get k!lled
there’s only six nice rappers
if you wanna be real
n-ggas die everyday from talking that dumb sh-t
that where they’re from sh-t
all that mean to me is you can get your gun quick
just another dumb b-tch
go to church to get the holy ghost
i did my dirt and got the holy ghost
look at the world through a n-ggas eyes
dont be a b-tch, you gonna live and die
ribbon in the sky, but no love when you slither by
i pray to god that we make it to heaven
but the only thing we makin’ is channel eleven
you know four, five and seven, hot as f-ck
and every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us
but since n-ggas still alive they should be tellin you somethin’
you ain’t hear from holiday, he ain’t tellin’ you nothin’
you know..c-cksucker..

[chorus]
felony n-ggas
cop c0ke heavily n-ggas
that’ll arm rob seventy n-ggas
you know
murderin’ n-ggas
you want dope, they servin’ you n-ggas
stay in 5th gear swervin’ on n-ggas
you know
whether we ryde or we die we gon’ get this dough
felony n-ggas
cop c0ke heavily n-ggas
that’ll arm rob seventy n-ggas
you know
murderin’ n-ggas
you want dope, they servin’ you n-ggas
stay in 5th gear swervin’ on n-ggas
you know
whether we ryde or we die we gon’ get this dough

[outro: skit]

- styles p lyrics

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