PS Hitsquad – Streetlife Lyrics

Streetlife Lyrics – PS Hitsquad

How did I make it home?
How did I get back?
I just let it all slap on the baitest road
Jump in the passenger side of the ride, that’s mileage
I know the way, let’s go
Yo, put your foot on the gas
That’s sirens, I know the station’s cold
Pray that I make it
Streetlife
I just pray that I make it home
I’m in the streets, roll with the heat
But I know the station’s cold
Bando, bake in a place unknown
It’s cold, I’m staying up late with a phone
Long time that I ain’t been home
Pray that I make it home
Streetlife
I just pray that I make it home
I’m in the streets, roll with the heat
But I know the station’s cold
Bando, bake in a place unknown
It’s cold, I’m staying up late with a phone
Long time that I ain’t been home
Pray that I make it-
I know that it’s taking a toll
All of these sleepless nights at the baker’s, bro
I been making dough, talk about status quo
Still lookin’ out for my paigons, though
See an opp, I might tape off road
You know the way this goes
Maybe you don’t
Hot Boy, Shmurda
I just slid round with a burner
Timmy, I roll with a Turner
Driver’s a learner
I point the thing like a cursor, aim and shoot like I’m Werner
Wind down the window, bingo
Lean out further, foot on the gas, man swerve off
GSR on my person, I ain’t no virgin
Clothes all gotta get burnt up
With the shank Imma do him up worser
Same flicky I use when I’m tagging
Bag a whole nine, but I ain’t bragging
I want a Max like Branning
Trapline banging
I got White like Shannon, and I got dark like the mandem
But I ain’t tryna hear doors banging, the boydem got me doing up planning
Smoking a blem, I’m chilling at J’s
Little bro got 3 G packs in the bank
No we don’t need Barclay’s
AM PR, do the same trips in the car
Sometimes, gotta leave by train
It’s all calm, pattern a yard
8-bits for a night, I’m at Lisa’s place
I just pray that it’s safe
Streetlife
I just pray that I make it home
I’m in the streets, roll with the heat
But I know the station’s cold
Bando, bake in a place unknown
It’s cold, I’m staying up late with a phone
Long time that I ain’t been home
Pray that I make it home
Streetlife
I just pray that I make it home
I’m in the streets, roll with the heat
But I know the station’s cold
Bando, bake in a place unknown
It’s cold, I’m staying up late with a phone
Long time that I ain’t been home
Pray that I make it home
I had my mumzy’s kitchen
Mum used to talk but her son wasn’t listening
Could’ve played ball on the pitch, on the kicks day
Same time I was in the field, tryna pitch him
I was 14 on the strip with the flick-ting
Black blade, do him up, quick ting
Then I had to make cake, Kipling
Still on the estate with a big ting
Still rap, but I ain’t like them man
Talk bout skengs, but they ain’t no skengman
Used to have more, now they ain’t got more than 10 man
Real talk, send a prayer for them man
I can’t get to the drop, but my friend can
And if it’s HSQ, he a dead man
Black on black when I step, fam
Step anywhere like a red band
Step anywhere
I’m surprised he got left any hair
How many shavings or we just blaze him
If he an opp, we ain’t got any care
‘016 I was opp of the year
Look at the scores, it’s not very fair
Phone call, have you got any gear?
I be like, “Yeah.”
Huh
Look, 6 ’til 3
I tell Darren go hit that fiend
2-on-1 at the alley because it was sally
I let her give 15
Kanye West, I can’t tick this B
I’m too good to be riskin’ free
In fact, I think I’m too good for the trap
Until little bro gets back, rap
Still though
I still be

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