Kill Street Blues Lyrics - Spice 1

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Sit your five dollar ass down 

Nigga 'fore a chief baller make change 

Cookin' up yae-yo at 3 in the mornin' 

Choppin' up game sackin' up caine 

Fetty was layin' all over the floor 

I guess you cold say that I was slippin' 

As the door kick in 

I stick in my clip and begin the dippin' 

Up on these so called po-po 

But I know it can't be nuthin' but some niggas 

Runnin' up in ski masks 

So I continue to curse and blast that asses out 

Tryin' to gaffle the scratch my gat consumes 

Just then my killa partner steps outta the bathroom 

Uzi's and Mack thangs start lettin' off 

Niggas catchin' slugs to the face 

Baking soda some niggas brains cocaine all over the place 

Took a dive behind the coach 

Heard a nigga say "We gonn' kill you" 

My two twin gats start talkin' to me said "Fuck them niggas I feel you" 

So I bail up outta the cut 

Tryin' ta take lives with no remorse 

Lookin' like a scene with Laurence Fishborne in "The King of New York" 

Now it's 3 o'clock in the morning 

And I still don't snooze 

'Cause through my life niggas be given me all these kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Onwe nigga died high 

Face down in uncut yae 

I stuck my finger up in the hole in his body, told him have a nice day 

My homie said "the real feds is comin'" 

Said he was hit 

I pull the bloody corpse off his body, he told me get the shit 

Ran to the kitchen 

Hopin' over the deceased 

Gotta get the rocks money and powder, and evade the police 

Put the fetty up in my hand 

Gotta be quick, gotta be nimble 

Look to my left seen three federalles' cars in the window 

Now it's time for me and my homie 

To mob the fuck on out 

As we mob up outta there three federalles mob in the house 

Can't say nothin' about them other niggas 

Them haters is out there dead 

Couple a slugs up in they head, with a house full of feds 

And ain't no time to be stickin' around 

I'm hearin' them ambulances and homocides 

I'm ready to bail outta the scene and flee up in this "G" ride 

I'm thinkin' my homie heart stopped nigga dyin' on me 

Partner dropped down to the ground 

That's when them po-po started firing on me 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Threw the caine down got to mobbin' off 

As the po-po yelled out freeze (freeze) 

Lost a down ass homie and the yae-yo man 

But fuck it I'ma keep the cheese (cheese) 

My partners eyes wide open 

Nigga layin' there one breath too short (short) 

But each time ya nigga Spice 1 hit the corner 

In a big white cloud of smoke (smoke) 

Federalles on my bumper baby 

Fittin' ta show 'em I ain't no punk (punk) 

Use the right hand to do the drivin' thang 

And the left hand ready to dump (dump) 

Led 'em on a high speed chase 

For about thirty minutes or a little bit more 

Got a triple thang murder up under my belt 

'Bout sixty thousand ta doe (doe) 

Oh no 

Heard a slg hit my back tire 

Then I spun around 

Runnin' into the side while tearin' all shit down 

Bitches was screamin' niggas was cussin' 

Po-Po bustin' at me (punk ass nigga) 

Run into the liquor store 

Knowin' they'll never catch me 

But soon as I'm thinkin' of makin' my getaway 

Ain't this a bitch 

Some fedy with a 12 gauge 

Put the barrel fight up to my shit (stay right there nigger) 

Pull out the money and all of a sudden I hit the floor 

Looked up and see the barrel of Sgt. Kickass' 4-4 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues 

Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock 

This is how we clock, stroll up on my block 

Three in the morning po-po at my door 

I'm wonderin' if really po-po at my door 

This is kill street blues