[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]