Styles P - Felony n***as lyrics

Verse 1 Shhh (Two guns up mothaf**a, Two guns up mothaf**a (overlap)) Real sh**...Styles P sh**.. If P want you dead, I ain't comin' wit n***as Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor So ya homies got something to pour That's that old school sh** I ain't tryin' to put you under the floor I'm tryin' ta bang n***as over the clouds And I heard you say you rich So you can't get lower than Styles k** everybody dead just so noone can smile Play the streets my whole life and I been flowin' a while Biget I rock, ever since my n***a was shot and my other n***a Will shoot sh** I'm tellin' the truth If I lie, may I die in the middle of the verse My n***as hustle from first to first Twelve months in a year Gun on your waist, Blunt in your ear Pack in your sock, crate at the back of the block With a fiend watchin' for NARCS till the sh** get dark We hop in the hoop ride, instead of the six While you lookin' for a b**h, we lookin' for a brick That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix Catch me OT gettin' sixty a shift Holidy Styles, n***a I ain't nothin' but streets Just as hard as the sh**, that be under your feet And the only time I front is with a blunt in the beak To show n***as that I'm nice and they ain't f**in' wit me Chorus Felony n***as Cop coke Heavily n***as That'll arm rob seventy n***as You know Murderin' n***as You want dope, they servin' you n***as Stay in 5th gear swervin' on n***as You know Whether we ryde or we die we gon' get this dough Verse 2 All I know is d** and guns And plenty of weed And that b**h that s** dick And n***as that bleed And if you're rich before you go Get a watch and a drop You better hit the court house And better bail out the block If your son ain't worth sh** n***as'll smuggle your daughter I come through in a Porshe The same color as water I got weight, what you want I can cover the order They call me Boss when I cross the border Six shot "caught her?" I hear n***as say my face is screwed But I'll put six in your stomach n***a Lace your food Scream "f** Every Rapper" that hate that I'm rude But that's that SP sh**, you can take it or move We can let the bullets spill, till we all get k**ed There's only six nice rappers If you wanna be real n***as die everyday from talking that dumb sh** That where they're from sh** All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick Just another dumb b**h Go to church to get the holy ghost I did my dirt and got the holy ghost Look at the world through a n***as eyes Dont be a b**h, you gonna live and die Ribbon in the sky, but no love when you slither by I pray to god that we make it to heaven But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven You know four, five and seven, hot as f** And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us But since n***as still alive they should be tellin you somethin' You ain't hear from Holiday, he ain't tellin' you nothin' You know..co*ks**er.. Chorus (2x) (skit)