Dj Muggs - Street Religion lyrics

Featuring ,

Published

0 251 0

Dj Muggs - Street Religion lyrics

[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren] Street religion's what I practice Cuban Linx chain my hat backwards Accelerate weight, livin' the fastest Covered in graphics, my shirts look like art pieces My life story's like a sharp thesis My heart preaches what my mind knows, sense over emotion Never see pyramids built without devotion I seen fiends s**in' gla** like a pleco The money that we use in the strip clubs is play dough Friends become foes, foes become alliances Gold bars get stashed inside appliances Stayin' free B and in G, I'm like a scientist Red and green belt on my waist, that's where the iron is Queens founded, international minded Dollar signs under my eyelid on my hybrid Design which period, strength and personality This Queens n***a's about to do it for the galaxy The calculator's good, my scale is calibrated I'm still aloof, I got the workin' and the salivated Know a couple Rambos to high belt Lambos I ain't really bout that I'm good with my hand foes Livin' lowkey, f** doing OT I'll be throwin' OT til I'm a OG, uh Wood grains in my gold teeth Hello motherf**ers calling me the chief [Verse 2: Roc Marciano] Check it Bloody murder, a young version of Ike Turner Watch your bird I might burn her with the curler Severely hurt her, but the word I can nurture Long furs his and hers in the house of worship At the funeral I heard it got turned up Gangbangers from the rival turf shot the church up Live by the gun, die by it Uh, what good is science to a man if he can't apply it? By many I was praised but I'm unfit Stared d**h in the eyes never once flinch co*k the hammer on the gun left a thumbprint Come with it, young blood undercover knit Put the hit on him, if he live pull a mulligan Chrome .357 with the rubber grip Sippin' Baileys on the rocks like Puffy Pie lucky, pop you cannot touch me Hunt for treasure, strugglin' to touch cheddar Front n***a probably be a bum forever Was once tight but in due time sever Birds of a feather flock together Rock Stay fly til the day I die, that's the slogan Fly based opponent, 5-50 with the corners Ice chokers, cut the pie ghetto stockbrokers In '89 had a line for the smokers Still rock gold like a king, my nuts is hangin' low Nickel plated .44 ain't for show n***a leave ya thoughts on the sidewalk For that fly talk twist one and slide off