[Intro: Streetlife]
Yooooooooooo!
The life, (you know) low, low
[Streetlife]
I be Streetlife, snatch you out the lime light
n***az get ya rhymes right, prepare for mic fight (yoooo)
What it look like? See a lot of prototypes
Bumpin' Street hype, without enough, n***a bite
Here's a little street advice, pa** me the mic
Hope you got your money right, better hold your honey tight
Slick game like Dolemite, see me in the hood
Lurking through the woods, like termites
With a hundred wolves up to no good, stole the mic
Wouldn't change it, if I could, been this way my whole life
Always in the back of the club, playing the wall tight
Rapper's delight, can't label this with five mics
Not in a heist, so f** with the source, right
I live the life, I'm cold as ice
Behold the birth of Christ, I be Streetlife
[Chorus: Streetlife]
Got no love, for Fake Ass n***aZ (F.A.N.Z.)
We don't love y'all Fake Ass n***aZ (F.A.N.Z.)
Got no love for Fake Ass n***aZ (We can't stand)
We don't love y'all Fake Ass n***aZ
(F.A.N.Z., F.A.N.Z., F.A.N.Z., F.A.N.Z.)
[Streetlife]
The Street sensai, new chef for the day
Son, you the entree, like stuffed fish filet
(Come on), rap all May, fly words to say
New way of thinking for p**y, that never pay (picture that)
The type of n***a that piss in the ice tray
Ride shotgun with the burner, like O.J.
I stay high, sliding by the cops all day
And I never cop a plea, with the D.E.A.
I'm on life parole, for k**ing the cliche'
And I f**ed the black, on tone, off the b**h Sole'
Check the ill rap display, half of these rap acts are gay
He, bite my slang, til your tooth decay
Mister deejay, let the record play
I got something to say, and it goes this way
[Chorus x2: w/ ad-libs)
[Streetlife]
I got no love for a F.A.N., how can I k** a man
Caught red handed when the gun jammed in my hand
If I pop another man, I'm a one man band
n***az is stupid, I cram to understand, big wham
b**hes is bustin' without a man, check the soundscan
Yeah, yeah, catch me if you can, branded
See the logo? Now you know where I stand
Street for solo, chief-in-command of the Clan
Fully auto, my slug, through your promotional van
One thing I can't stand, is one who is most a F.A.N.
You bout to fall short, when I spoil your plans
Jump out the trashcan, two guns in both hand
Call me 'stickman', watch me, stick it to scram
Throw you off the roof, like Meth in Cop Land
[Chorus: to fade w/ ad-libs]