Soundtrack To The Streets - Clean Version Lyrics
| Song | Soundtrack To The Streets - Clean Version |
| Artist | Kid Capri |
| Album | Soundtrack To The Streets |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Bernstein, Jones, Love | |
| [kid] yeahhhhh! | |
| [nas] uhh, qb | |
| [kid] all the people in the place! | |
| It's the one and only kid capri | |
| [nas] uhh, tm nigga | |
| [kid] along with my man nas escobar | |
| [nas] ill will | |
| [kid] we about to take this one all around the world | |
| So y'all feel this one, come on! | |
| Verse one: nas | |
| My antidote to the dope add drugs in the party | |
| Pistol-whippin your body lyrical oddessey | |
| Y'all ain't smoke real shit less y'all smokin with me | |
| And y'all ain't heard real shit, til you heard it from me | |
| Escobar, i toasted with frank white, to this new era | |
| Of gangster life, slangin words in the mic | |
| Thanks to the life, i urge y'all to write pain | |
| You a whore to the war, i remain a virgin that's tight | |
| This game i'ma run til it's done, stack my funds | |
| Packin guns, clean each gat, once a month | |
| Hope ya toast carry heavy as the vest on your chest | |
| Hope you squeeze it cause you're only safe from stomach to chest | |
| Everything else, left open, i'm smokin | |
| Next to your balls, police won't even question at all | |
| It's the esc- to the -bar, connects in ?piar? | |
| Overlord of rap, u.s. france to ecuodar | |
| Chorus: nas | |
| Have you ever met a qb gangsta, who would | |
| Shake your hand and turn ya back he would shank ya? | |
| Niggaz want the street you lookin for me | |
| You want the hot shit you must cop the kid capri | |
| Ladies dance to it, niggaz pound that in your jeep | |
| Esco' and kid capri, with the motherfuckin soundtrack | |
| To the street, thugs pop to it, sell rocks to it | |
| Puffin l's poppin glocks to it | |
| Verse two: nas | |
| Me and the streets share the same vein, same pain | |
| The whole game changed, niggaz with no brain could make dough | |
| Off of cocaine, colombian neckties | |
| Democrats to bill clinton gotta respect nas | |
| Customized flow, words stitched into the seams | |
| Tailor made lyrics words fit ya, spit scripture worship | |
| Far from ali, niggaz can't spar with the kid | |
| Regardless of your bid or who you partners with | |
| Spit, cartridges at so-called hard ni-ggaz | |
| You get, sparked and hit, held as hostages | |
| You know how the mobsters is from the heart of the bridge | |
| We just started gettin dough, yo pardon the kid | |
| I ain't used to havin shit, my youth as bad as it get | |
| Ghetto bound first lesson was to let off rounds | |
| Shots, echo the town, new york, home of | |
| The harlem mix tape, master as we all know him now | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse three: nas | |
| Uhh, what? kid capri | |
| Soundtrack to the street a theme for every hood | |
| Every lockdown facility, get ?oxed? down for grillin me | |
| Write down hostility, iced down with friends of ours | |
| Respect money and power and them honies that swallow | |
| But what's becomin apollo, nuttin but bigga bank | |
| Fuck you niggaz think i ride for? | |
| Same thing niggaz die for, so we draw guns | |
| The same time in this war, leave your mind on the floor | |
| Niggaz doin thirty to life to survive in this world | |
| Transportin keys that's inside of a door | |
| Openin spots from little rock to baltimore | |
| Smoked out, chillin on the kid capri world tour | |
| Chorus | |
| [kid capri] | |
| Yeah | |
| Word up, come on | |
| We make it bump one time word up | |
| My man nas make it bump one time come on | |
| Come on, we make it bump one time word up | |
| The kid capri make it bump one time come on | |
| Chorus | |
| [kid capri] | |
| And i say party people, it's the kid capri | |
| Nas escobar, soundtrack to the streets | |
| Jumpin off, youknowhati'msayin? | |
| You a part of history, stay tuned, uh! |
| zuo ci : Bernstein, Jones, Love | |
| kid yeahhhhh! | |
| nas uhh, qb | |
| kid all the people in the place! | |
| It' s the one and only kid capri | |
| nas uhh, tm nigga | |
| kid along with my man nas escobar | |
| nas ill will | |
| kid we about to take this one all around the world | |
| So y' all feel this one, come on! | |
| Verse one: nas | |
| My antidote to the dope add drugs in the party | |
| Pistolwhippin your body lyrical oddessey | |
| Y' all ain' t smoke real shit less y' all smokin with me | |
| And y' all ain' t heard real shit, til you heard it from me | |
| Escobar, i toasted with frank white, to this new era | |
| Of gangster life, slangin words in the mic | |
| Thanks to the life, i urge y' all to write pain | |
| You a whore to the war, i remain a virgin that' s tight | |
| This game i' ma run til it' s done, stack my funds | |
| Packin guns, clean each gat, once a month | |
| Hope ya toast carry heavy as the vest on your chest | |
| Hope you squeeze it cause you' re only safe from stomach to chest | |
| Everything else, left open, i' m smokin | |
| Next to your balls, police won' t even question at all | |
| It' s the esc to the bar, connects in ? piar? | |
| Overlord of rap, u. s. france to ecuodar | |
| Chorus: nas | |
| Have you ever met a qb gangsta, who would | |
| Shake your hand and turn ya back he would shank ya? | |
| Niggaz want the street you lookin for me | |
| You want the hot shit you must cop the kid capri | |
| Ladies dance to it, niggaz pound that in your jeep | |
| Esco' and kid capri, with the motherfuckin soundtrack | |
| To the street, thugs pop to it, sell rocks to it | |
| Puffin l' s poppin glocks to it | |
| Verse two: nas | |
| Me and the streets share the same vein, same pain | |
| The whole game changed, niggaz with no brain could make dough | |
| Off of cocaine, colombian neckties | |
| Democrats to bill clinton gotta respect nas | |
| Customized flow, words stitched into the seams | |
| Tailor made lyrics words fit ya, spit scripture worship | |
| Far from ali, niggaz can' t spar with the kid | |
| Regardless of your bid or who you partners with | |
| Spit, cartridges at socalled hard niggaz | |
| You get, sparked and hit, held as hostages | |
| You know how the mobsters is from the heart of the bridge | |
| We just started gettin dough, yo pardon the kid | |
| I ain' t used to havin shit, my youth as bad as it get | |
| Ghetto bound first lesson was to let off rounds | |
| Shots, echo the town, new york, home of | |
| The harlem mix tape, master as we all know him now | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse three: nas | |
| Uhh, what? kid capri | |
| Soundtrack to the street a theme for every hood | |
| Every lockdown facility, get ? oxed? down for grillin me | |
| Write down hostility, iced down with friends of ours | |
| Respect money and power and them honies that swallow | |
| But what' s becomin apollo, nuttin but bigga bank | |
| Fuck you niggaz think i ride for? | |
| Same thing niggaz die for, so we draw guns | |
| The same time in this war, leave your mind on the floor | |
| Niggaz doin thirty to life to survive in this world | |
| Transportin keys that' s inside of a door | |
| Openin spots from little rock to baltimore | |
| Smoked out, chillin on the kid capri world tour | |
| Chorus | |
| kid capri | |
| Yeah | |
| Word up, come on | |
| We make it bump one time word up | |
| My man nas make it bump one time come on | |
| Come on, we make it bump one time word up | |
| The kid capri make it bump one time come on | |
| Chorus | |
| kid capri | |
| And i say party people, it' s the kid capri | |
| Nas escobar, soundtrack to the streets | |
| Jumpin off, youknowhati' msayin? | |
| You a part of history, stay tuned, uh! |
| zuò cí : Bernstein, Jones, Love | |
| kid yeahhhhh! | |
| nas uhh, qb | |
| kid all the people in the place! | |
| It' s the one and only kid capri | |
| nas uhh, tm nigga | |
| kid along with my man nas escobar | |
| nas ill will | |
| kid we about to take this one all around the world | |
| So y' all feel this one, come on! | |
| Verse one: nas | |
| My antidote to the dope add drugs in the party | |
| Pistolwhippin your body lyrical oddessey | |
| Y' all ain' t smoke real shit less y' all smokin with me | |
| And y' all ain' t heard real shit, til you heard it from me | |
| Escobar, i toasted with frank white, to this new era | |
| Of gangster life, slangin words in the mic | |
| Thanks to the life, i urge y' all to write pain | |
| You a whore to the war, i remain a virgin that' s tight | |
| This game i' ma run til it' s done, stack my funds | |
| Packin guns, clean each gat, once a month | |
| Hope ya toast carry heavy as the vest on your chest | |
| Hope you squeeze it cause you' re only safe from stomach to chest | |
| Everything else, left open, i' m smokin | |
| Next to your balls, police won' t even question at all | |
| It' s the esc to the bar, connects in ? piar? | |
| Overlord of rap, u. s. france to ecuodar | |
| Chorus: nas | |
| Have you ever met a qb gangsta, who would | |
| Shake your hand and turn ya back he would shank ya? | |
| Niggaz want the street you lookin for me | |
| You want the hot shit you must cop the kid capri | |
| Ladies dance to it, niggaz pound that in your jeep | |
| Esco' and kid capri, with the motherfuckin soundtrack | |
| To the street, thugs pop to it, sell rocks to it | |
| Puffin l' s poppin glocks to it | |
| Verse two: nas | |
| Me and the streets share the same vein, same pain | |
| The whole game changed, niggaz with no brain could make dough | |
| Off of cocaine, colombian neckties | |
| Democrats to bill clinton gotta respect nas | |
| Customized flow, words stitched into the seams | |
| Tailor made lyrics words fit ya, spit scripture worship | |
| Far from ali, niggaz can' t spar with the kid | |
| Regardless of your bid or who you partners with | |
| Spit, cartridges at socalled hard niggaz | |
| You get, sparked and hit, held as hostages | |
| You know how the mobsters is from the heart of the bridge | |
| We just started gettin dough, yo pardon the kid | |
| I ain' t used to havin shit, my youth as bad as it get | |
| Ghetto bound first lesson was to let off rounds | |
| Shots, echo the town, new york, home of | |
| The harlem mix tape, master as we all know him now | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse three: nas | |
| Uhh, what? kid capri | |
| Soundtrack to the street a theme for every hood | |
| Every lockdown facility, get ? oxed? down for grillin me | |
| Write down hostility, iced down with friends of ours | |
| Respect money and power and them honies that swallow | |
| But what' s becomin apollo, nuttin but bigga bank | |
| Fuck you niggaz think i ride for? | |
| Same thing niggaz die for, so we draw guns | |
| The same time in this war, leave your mind on the floor | |
| Niggaz doin thirty to life to survive in this world | |
| Transportin keys that' s inside of a door | |
| Openin spots from little rock to baltimore | |
| Smoked out, chillin on the kid capri world tour | |
| Chorus | |
| kid capri | |
| Yeah | |
| Word up, come on | |
| We make it bump one time word up | |
| My man nas make it bump one time come on | |
| Come on, we make it bump one time word up | |
| The kid capri make it bump one time come on | |
| Chorus | |
| kid capri | |
| And i say party people, it' s the kid capri | |
| Nas escobar, soundtrack to the streets | |
| Jumpin off, youknowhati' msayin? | |
| You a part of history, stay tuned, uh! |
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