Lyrics
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up
Street hop nigga, more than a rapper
H O P, Howie owns powder
Buy and sell, got multiple lines on sale
Cause I ain’t tryna join my nigga rum in the cell
Phony niggas running rampant
Mainly family and friends, why they shit, cool cat trick
Never play it dumb, he get close
A nigga play you, played em with the toast
East, wheat, bread, dough
Rubber bands, waist band, 3 plus 4
7, Trey Pizzy, ain’t no guessing, I gets busy
With all this work it makes sense
30 thousand in change when every bird went
South, west, east, even north
I bring them wherever as long as they pay the cost
Ave a young boss
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up
Still street with it, niggas hold heat
Getting complex, beyond fresh, a magnifique blizzard
Deep dishes spinning like the weights behind the driver’s wheel
None for diction with a vixen, I’m the livest, still survivors skill better
You, I’m giving Queens the credit
I’ll take your wife in just a swipe it’s like I pay with debit
Life’s a net, set it up, bet it when it’s necessary
Fuck being legendary, living in a cemetery
I want to shine now, glowing in the present
Flowing in the desert while we opening the pheasant
Provide orders, and we ride daughters fly hoarders
Just getting by taught us, now we gone supply snorters
Shining like an April birthstone, rocking the earth tone
Full clip, shit in my whip, I’m in my work zone
Insert chrome, right in your mouth to get a point across
It’s summertime, I’m bout to cop another joint to floss
This ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up, this ain’t rapping, this is street hop
Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot
Now get up
It’s the young polo massacre, spirit channeled through Africa
Hammer, I swing like Gallagher
I serve the work out the Challenger
Fuck collateral, crack, xannies, and Adderall
Anything for them c notes, gained the Cee Lo, we out in Reno
Serve on the D low, just so happened I rap
My girl the color of Jim Crow, it just so happen I’m black
Sported the slacks when I bought the yacht
Rode in the socks, left my phone in the drop
I need some time to my self
Just to think, smoke a new down in a blink
Start the grill, toast to me at the start of the meal
, Ebonics is spoken over the table
Steak cut, backwudz get emptied and rolled into blunts
And those get passed to my niggas
Damn, I got a little ash on my knickers
Launder the money through the soda club
My bitch Christian but she hold drugs
It’s Porter, nigga