Freddie Gibbs
4 Da Streets (Freestyle #4)
[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
Yeah, back again n***a
Time for me to get real n***a
Yeah, it's Gibbs
Smoke som' (yeah)
Yo, I make moves and shit you know what I mean
Outta town, n***as in the industry and shit be like you know "where you from n***a?" (tell 'em)
I be like whatchu mean n***a?
From da G

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Picture me rollin' on fo's up in yo' neighborhood
Smokin' that bomb, feelin' good, wish a hater would
Run up on me, cause I got homies in every section
And plus my weapon stay on my hip
My name brain, man stay it on they lips
Cause you the shit, yeah that's what it is
These n***as don't know that I know
They jock my style and study the flow
Hoes is ready for Freddie to blow
So they can see me on TV and say "girl I sucked his dick" (haha)
Why? for the fuck of it
Watched her kiss another bitch
The types of hoes I'm fuckin' with don't fuck around
Callin' that ass at 3 in the mornin', I bet she bustin' down
I done been all over, fucked bitches in every major town
Lace 'em with the game, give me brain when my plane touch down
Yeah you rollin' to the sounds of a pimp, my Imp' got swivel seats
Flipped tips, now I'm gettin' my grip from rippin' beats
I'm a beast with the sticky green tree
And your purple swisher sweets
I'mma crack open this here, kick up my feet
[Chorus]
For da streets (n***a)
I do my thang for da streets (n***a)
N***a, we bang in da streets (n***a)
We let 'em hang in da streets (n***a)
We keep it pimpin' n***a

[sample]
Man I'm on probation, I can't do this
Stop being a bitch and come on
I ain't tryna get involved wit' y'all
You don't get involved, I'm gon' knock yo' ass out too, make a choice

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
Yo, I'm from that East side G.I. my n***a
My homie say it's beef time then I'm ridin' wit' him
Best keep yo' heat on yo' side, got my nine in my britches
And bail money from like five different bitches
In case a n***a get bent
Police up in it cause I'm gettin' my grip
I got a fat, fluffy sack of that shit, let's get lit
I get bent, on a regular basis
I take a blunt to the face and enter something similar to the Matrix
Yo' flow is basic, so basically I can see why you hatin' me
I'm 'bout my dough, my paper G, fresh out the fuckin' bakery
Look what the streets done made of me
Mama said she gon' pray for me
I just hope the Lord Almighty wait for me
Hope it ain't too late for me
Father I ain't perfect but I'm workin'
Got my cell phone twerkin' from them O's we been earfin'
I been lurkin' on the creep wit' that thang on the seat
This is pain over beats
You can hear it when I speak n***a
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
This for da streets (n***a)
I do my thang for da streets (n***a)
N***a, we bang in da streets (n***a)
We let 'em hang in da streets (n***a)
We keep it pimpin' n***a

[sample]
-shoot yo' stupid ass over nuttin'
Come on man we supposed to be brothers
Oh what, you tryna get smart?
N***a are you tryna kill somebody?
Fuck that give me yo' muthafuckin' jewelry n***a
*gun shot*