The Streets Lyrics

We Get that money boy

Right up out the streets

Out the streets

To my young boy

I'm a O.G.

Tens and twentys

Flying off the block

This tier looking

So good dog you thought

It was some rock

Girlies all up on my jock

Pinky ring on looking like my pop

Ones in the middle with the

Hundreds sitting on the top

Fiends on time you thought they

Working on a clock

But I ain't playing girl

You better put it in my pock

(2x)

Even if you aint my girl

Break yourself and

Give me what you got

(Chorus)

To My Young boy imam o.g

C.o.d. Cash On Delivery

I don't sell crack

And you know I don't sell weed

I sell swag that dopey

You get indicted by them dt's

Or end up like what they did to big meech

And I aint trina be like that kid be

I'm just trine C.P

Chorus