streets

(Beat drops – dark, drill-style 808s, sliding bass, and hard-hitting snares) (Verse 1) Step in the ride, let’s lurk, no lacking, Broski’s tapped, he ain't into the chatting. Gloves on tight, we ain't leaving no patterns, Two in the dots, let it sing like Brattin. Opps get splashed, that's standard fashion, Mask on my face, but it ain't for the virus. Man talk bad till they see that lightning, Back that, swing that, now he ain't fighting. (Chorus) Slide with a broom, no witch, no magic, Bro got the dots, let it boom, no tactics. Try run, got caught, it's tragic, Talk on the net, real life, they vanish. (Verse 2) Came from the block, no love, just sinning, Trapline jump, that’s racks, no kidding. Bros on the wing, still chef in the kitchen, Free up the guys, real Gs, no switching. Try step, get stretched like limos, Got corn for the opps, no Skittles. Peng tings love man, come widows, But the streets got my heart, no pillows. (Outro) Back to the trap, let’s count this stack, No love for a thot, just love for the racks. Talk on gang? Get turned to a pack, Spin this coupe, then it’s back to the flats. (Beat fades out, eerie synths lingering…) Let me know if you want it tweaked or with a different vibe!