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sporty thievz - street cinema 2 lyrics
sporty thievs, pete rock sh-t
chill cousin
rock-a-block
shot callers
[big dubez]
we in the outlets buyin’ outfits with the counterfeits
and we get down south with it
n-gga your powder got no power, it’s 30% flour
plus you a coward who drink amaretto sours
jump out the shower brando throw on the ‘burbs
with the fur see my n-gga on the curb i’m like “errrr!”
the d’s can’t make out a face on the stakeout
not mine’s, the face on the dough and the cake out
plus my jewelry got the police hatin’
takin’ bran to the station, cuz he got bacon
got the bats in the car, clothes match in the car
with some hydro mixed with hash in the jar
there be -ss at the bar, so i flash at the bar
leave with a b-tch and have -ss for tomorrow
yo the beamer with the license plate from antigua
be on the low like a gun in your son’s speaker
[hook 2x]
street cinema, ya’ll forgot the cinema was street
saw me with a freak and thought the cinema was sweet
big n-ggas eat while real players chic
and deceased underneath don’t f-ck with a thief
[king kirk]
my flow’s a threat, have you wake up pettin’ a cold sweat
ya’ll n-ggas couldn’t hang like a slave with no neck
mic check, taste the liquor, kirk’s sicker
the n-gga’s lookin’ at they sister’s naked picture
watchin’ hitler, laughin’, drunk poppin’ asprin
when this track’s in make sure your seat belt’s fastened
kirk’s like thug p-ssion, have you crashin’
crowd clappin’, your go, no reaction
cat’s talk sh-t? i don’t even respond ’em
just slide one in they girl and autograph the condom
when the time come you find some periodic
king got it, ya’ll cats sound idiotic
vocals flow like a boat cruise
if i was two dudes and we battled, we’d both lose
styles wild like a monkey drunk
if i fell i bounce back like humpty dump on a bungee jump
[hook 2x]
[marlon brando]
i don’t have time for punishin’ n-ggas who wanna battle
get ate then they man tell ’em “what the f-ck you rhyme for?”
that’s what a rhyme for, nothin’ lesser from afar
all you saw was saliva and hand gestures
hail rap’s medusa, i turn you statue
speechless with your own block laughin’ at you
then merk with your loca
i’m promisin’ her the coast-a
just to make love to her boca
then send her on down with coca in her throat-a
no soda, makin’ that broad boba
and all i got was blown by her
now she wanna hang around like old kicks on telephone wire
my thing ain’t complete without a beat from pete haaa
we got this run along and beat your meat
i’m with hoes and comos on a private flight n-gga
thanks for comin’ out god bless goodnight n-gga
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