Street Music Lyrics - After Taxes - Sheek Louch

(feat. The Game) 

{*helicopter flies overhead*} 

There comes a time, in every man's life 

When he gon' have to decide, who he fuckin with 

Who you fuckin with? Them niggaz don't care about you 

Them niggaz don't give a fuck about you 

Why you rappin like that? This street music! 

(Sheek Louch) 

Yo, let's, talk about it what; Sheek can throw 

the fiend on a nigga guarantee he won't walk up out it 

No no, nickel-plated uhh; kinda old 

but the muzzle them usin make this motherfucker updated 

Puh-puh, nigga please; if a nigga had your son 

and had him lookin down you wouldn't even squeeze 

Uh uhh, I don't know; I don't wanna hear about 

the money that you had, or what you did a long time ago 

Yo yo the hood is mine; I don't gotta sell a lot 

I just live off more points than the porcupines 

Uh uhh, feel me cousin? Sheek been a problem 

before this D-Block shit started buzzin 

Some are sayin - no he wasn't, he turned sick 

With that women in your family can suck my dick 

And I've been red hot every since; I ain't sayin I'm the best 

Muh'fucker, I'm just workin with some sense 

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(Chorus: Sheek Louch) 

This is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every hustler pushin a whip 

Street music - what? {*repeat 4X*} 

This is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every hustler pushin a whip 

Street music - what? {*repeat 4X*} 

(Sheek Louch) 

Y'all niggaz so sweet, Sheek so street 

From the doo rag on my head to the sneakers on my feet 

The heart in my chest, black on my flesh 

And I swear to my son, I'll leave this shit a mess 

I do it for the yard, where most of my squad 

is sittin in a cell, goin through hell 

And every frontin nigga got a story to tell 

Bye bye nigga, doves fly nigga 

The hardest nigga spittin came from Bed-Stuy nigga 

After that was Sheek, some say it was Jigga 

I got loyalty; I ain't a king to none of this shit 

But I swear, on the streets I'm royalty 

Kinda scary ain't it? You don't wanna be 

That's why the hood treat you colder than the A&P 

I throw my fists up - but it ain't for black power 

It's for any motherfucker that gets up 

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(Chorus) 

(Sheek Louch) 

Niggaz don't wanna buh-bug bang with me 

Cause 9 out 10 when you see me I got the muh'fuckin thangs with me 

Fuck it put 'em up; muh'fucker put your guns in the air 

If you with me nigga hold 'em up 

Ruh ruh rowdy ain't it; I ain't afraid to go to war 

and have a nigga white tee, like you fingerpaint it 

Every hood got 'em, kinda hard to spot 'em 

Once I'm there about to tell you what nigga shot him 

What the fuck is up? I ain't nuttin up 

Niggaz hard 'til they leakin through they button up 

Get at my crew, whatever nigga who 

You don't need a flight to be all JetBlue 

Understand me nigga - if it happens, it happens 

But I ain't really a Grammy nigga 

Sheek spit rage; y'all don't want me to win nuttin 

I'm bringin the whole Block on the stage 

(Chorus)