The Click - Street Life lyrics

[Verse 1: D-Shot] It's the first of the month and my beeper is blowing I can't stop cause my cash is flowing I'm baggin' em' up bustin' em' down quickly Cause I got five brothers waitin' on me at Thrifty's I'm in the other bucket on the late night pursuit With two kis and and forty ounce of brew I ain't trippin' cause my tags are legit Ah sh**, now them tats is on my tip So I drops my brew, what the f** am I to do (Pa** the street to shake that fool) So I smashed on my pedal and rolled down Golden Gate And threw these f**ing kis in the lake [Verse 2: Mugzi] Guess who comes through, it's a fool I gat tapped that a**, red dog, and boo We kicks it on the hill everyday Slangin' rocks with Glocks now we gots to get paid The street life's how I'm livin' and the po-po tryin' to get me But they can't catch up to a motherf**ing philly That's how I'm livin' in the day But when it comes night I packs a forty and an AK Waitin' for some punk to jump so I can start to pop And put some motherf**ing holes in his drop The watch his a** grasp, then I laugh He shouldn't have last so I taxed his punk a** Street life, because there's no place I can go Street life, it's the only life I know Street life, there's a thousand lives a day Street life, until you play your life away [Verse 3: Kaveo] A young brother in the game with my fame and glory I'm really down for my pops and the hardcore stories Mandatory is my money, ya best believe Because I'm rollin' through ya town with gold tone D's Lookin' clean with my mug on mean But in the ghetto it ain't nothin' but dope fiends I pull up on the turf not thinkin' of gettin' burnt With a nine in the trunk it ain't gon' be no funk Serious about my mail, don't give a f** about a jail cell Because I post bail and all hell breaks loose Cause I got juice, though it seems to me In reality the other man is out to get me [Verse 4: B-Legit] Forever on the run, that sh** ain't funny And I ain't never heard of no extra money The ninety-eight cents, no food for less I send a dope fiend to steal my guess The ghettos of a way where the players star Where white men won't, where white kids won't They say it ain't cool and it's bad for they health And if ya hit magazine then break ya self Cause that's the rules man and don't ask why Either you slang, g**n, or die My only concern is to strive f**ed up around in the street life [Verse 5: E-40] The reason I ain't do eighteen yet, check Is because I got people praying for me, bet I pays my ties even though the money's filthy Don't wanna go to church because I feel guilty The way of the street life is really quite scary Thinkin' tomorrow man I might get buried So when I leave my pad I grab mt Glock And my bulletproof vest and my ski mask dock On the gooch pal, I won't be caught out of bounds Can't let these fools stop my life So I strive, I might be about one eight But in the mind I more like twenty eight I see the po-po poppin' the brothers droppin' n***as plottin' and children starvin' All this sh** in my face I gotta get up out of this place The middle of V ain't enough see A n***a feel like I gotta sell D I share a room with six little brothers Three to a bed fightin' over covers The crack of dawn, I read the paper A Jewish old lady said a n***a raped her The finger always points at the black man But not the whites, Filipinos, or Mexicans [Hook]