Streets Don't Love A Soul Lyrics

I got love to show you. Kumbaya, boom-ba-ye. Have you tried on all the shoes.

Up in 'Bron crib, fishbowl wineglasses. Just run around the town with me. Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you. Writing down these feelings, it's been overdue (overdue).

Outside of the club. Hey-ayy, hey-ayy, hey-yeah. Think we got too sexy for that metro housin' (way too sexy). I could give a f*ck about who designing your sneakers and tees. I'll play it cool with you, Denmark a nigga like Copenhagen. Streets don't love a soul lyrics meaning. Niggas gotta chill with talking gangsta. Baby, longing you make me feel something. Made you seem, made you feel, it was crazy (ooh-ah). F*ck her 'cause she at the crib again, company (yeah, yeah).

Imitation isn't flattery, it's just annoyin' me. 'Cause you're on the same shit that you was on before. I should've came home, came home sooner. All of a sudden (all of a sudden).

The way I be smilin' and holdin' my gun. Pay attention to the detail, goin' two-tone on a choker. Get it for free in the App Store. I grew up with Drea faith. Me and you been on a first name basis. Streets don't love a soul lyrics and chords. Whipping in a bando. Lay your ass down, then that liquor get you fired up. You made me forget about it anyway. These boys on they last resort and it's givin' us all inclusive. F**k the world nigga you got a choice). I make it rain in this bitch, I make it snow in this bitch.

We're checking your browser, please wait... I'm makin' the most of this shit and more. Be like A. J., come take a ride, what you see is what you get nigga. Y'all niggas not poppin'. Now y'all doin' shots, now them bitches got you fired up. Trust me, this ain't 'bout revenge. Show you just who I was. Shout out to the family. My bae, you know me and you knew me back then. Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper. And look at the heroes fallin' from grace in their older ages. I'm droppin' the top, no tint for the whip. I don't want no friends no more, not many understand me.

I been kickin' shit (whoa, whoa), might need a prosthetic (yeah). I KNOW KILLERS DOING BANDS. My girl got a girlfriend. Turned to soil and I grew up out it.

Papi chulo, grippin' culo. She hittin' up Virgil for Louis Vuitton. Heard you got some brand new life goals. Before you came into my heart.

This is a story, it came from my life and I'm just rec-. I'm turning to gold. And you know how it goes when I see you again. Anything besides this, we playing violins, uh. You'd probably still be there if I. Now you wanna come crack to me (crack, crack). Oh, you like the boy? We got problems we could never really put aside. We got 1942, Casamigos, it's getting heated. Was f*ckin' with you way before you had some confessions to make. I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you.

This paper, I shred it (yeah). Well you're touching my soul. Can't picture being a hubby, finger too stubby to fit a ring on. Could already tell that you're comin' home intoxicated, ooh. Okay, fine, I miss you too. Type the characters from the picture above: Input is case-insensitive. Never understood where I could really take it. Set the tempo, got a nympho on my line (yeah-yeah).

Left them niggas stretched out on the train tracks. I hit up err and tell him do the err, for sure. Still runnin' the game, don't ask me about the practice. Nothing else bigger than the OVO letterman boys. I remember that I told you I get your true fears, that I get around. At times he had to double back. To my dawgs in the game who wasn't pick of the litter. That's gon' make a nigga stay up.