In And Out (S.P.) - Sheek Louch, Styles P

Yeah, D-Block

Styles P, you wit me dog?

Hell yeah, let’s get 'em, yeah

Let’s go

You get smacked with the hammer, nigga play your position

'Fore rigor mortis set in and you stay in position

Nigga, I’ll hawk your ass, wanna fit in my shoes

And you cowards can’t walk my path

I don’t know nobody fuckin' wit us

I ain’t Gerome Bettis, but if I hit you it’s gon' feel like the bus

And you couldn’t live this life and play this role

Like never part with your gun and stay this cold

Yo, we in the streets where it’s nothin' but love

I’m them leather shits, you the Michael Jackson glove

I’m in the hood 'cause I’m dedicated

If I was you, I woulda never made it

I’m holiday, so I’m celebrated

We don’t reminisce bitch ass, remember that

Style’s verse is the only thing gon' bring it back

Tell the ghetto show discipline, whattup?

I said Sheek gun, Puerto Rican, bullets stay whistlin'

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit

I guess I’m gettin older

'Cause everybody that I thought was hot

Go inside the garbage folder

And nigga I’m from D-Block, I’m on 3, 5, 4

I keep my heat cocked and my blunt lit

The mack out, take a piece of your back out

Raise it to your cheek nigga, dare you to speak

Shit, I got plenty guns

And thugs that’ll give a nigga a hug

And say they stab anyone

You ain’t never seen a nigga jaw hangin' from his face

Sausage shaped, red shit hangin' from his waist

Nigga, I’m well connected

By the time you hear this, I’ll be in jail

But I probably got two cells connected

Yack in one hand, with the other, the lizm

And if I push you down and wet you, it’s not Baptism

Bitch, this is Mafia, it won’t stop

Till they put you in the dirt with the flowers on top of ya

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit

Sheek goin' broke is not in the plans

I could sell gloves to a nigga with no hands

A lot of niggas screamin' they wolf but I’m feelin' they sheep

I won’t be happy till the niggas asleep

I’ll punch a niggas nose in, duckin' and bustin'

Cuttin' and cussin', hold that, you bitch ass nigga

And I could make the best die

Cut your throat open, pull your tongue through it

That’s a fuckin' neck tie

We turn bitch niggas skin maroon

Pump turn niggas voices like they hit a helium balloon

If Christ is comin', it oughta be now, I swear to God

'Cause all y’all faggot niggas die according to Styles

What nigga you could get it for free?

Put your money up, ain’t nobody fuckin' wit Louch and P

Yeah, nigga that’s what’s up?

D-Block till the death, motherfucker so our gat is up

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit

Sheek and SP in and out, haul for the streets

Turn the bass up and try not to fuck up your seats

Rock that shit, every corner, knock that shit

Niggas try to front on us, cock that shit