Cookie Money – Street Visions (Lyrics | Video)

Lyrics “Street Visions” / Cookie Money

You ain’t a shooter, you don’t put n**gas in bodybags
Play with Cook, I’m in your mirror like I’m Candy Man
Chopper bullets make him tumble like an avalanche
Dead on arrival, he don’t even need an ambulance

I’m low-key smokin’ weed in a caravan
Thirty for a brick, I ain’t never goin’ broke again
Love for no b**ch, I can never trust a ho again
Damn, I miss my dawg, I’ll never see my bro again

Pourin’ fours in my cup, f**kin’ up my kidney
N**gas sellin’ Bobby Brown, n**gas sold on Whitney
Gettin’ money, rockin’ ice, smokin’ dope in Benzes
I ain’t doin it for the ‘Gram, I’m really ’bout my business
N**gas sittin’ on they ass, all about these b**ches
Get the bands out the trap and make it out them trenches
Lost it all and got it back, this s**t really in me
N**gas talk behind my back, I can peep the envy
Up in Barneys blowin’ racks, hella Gucci, Fendi
B**ch, it cost four zips for these new Balencis
I could make a hundred stacks in these new Amiris
Throw it out and get it back like I’m playin’ Frisbee

These n**gas said that they with me, I know they lyin’, though
Sucker said they gon’ get me but I ain’t hidin’, though
They can’t stop me from scorin’, I’m like LeBron on ’em
Steve Urkel ass n**gas, I’m Stephen on ’em versuri.online

Long money for wars, not just for Rollies, boy
You ain’t stackin’ no trophies, then what you grindin’ for
Yeah, you call him your homie, but you ain’t slidin’ for him
Yeah, you sayin’ f**k the opps but they ain’t dyin’ for him

Suckers say they gon’ get me but I ain’t hidin’ on ’em
‘Cause b**ch, I’m clutchin’ this fifty, I’m bustin’ fire on ’em
N**gas stuck in the streets, I done retired on ’em
I ain’t f**kin’ these b**ches, I done got tired of ’em
Bustdown baby, I whipped a whole nine for you
Trap goin’ crazy, I split the whole pie with you
Fed a lot of n**gas and it only made ’em disloyal
Trust’ll get you killed, if you slip, they gon’ really murk you
Runnin’ laps in the field, jumpin’ over hurdles
N**gas lookin’ up to rats, call ’em Ninja Turtles
I can flip a hundred packs, started sellin’ purple
B**ch it’s only for the family, my lil’ Cosa Nostra
I’m an East Oakland legend, do it for the culture
If you eat but don’t hunt, you a f**kin’ vulture
It be snakes in the grass and you call ’em brothers
H*es f**kin’ everybody but they still love ’em

These n**gas said that they with me, I know they lyin’, though
Sucker said they gon’ get me but I ain’t hidin’, though
They can’t stop me from scorin’, I’m like LeBron on ’em
Steve Urkel ass n**gas, I’m Stephen on ’em

Long money for wars, not just for Rollies, boy
You ain’t stackin’ no trophies, then what you grindin’ for
Yeah, you call him your homie, but you ain’t slidin’ for him
Yeah, you sayin’ f**k the opps but they ain’t dyin’ for him…

➤ Written by Cookie Money
Album: Cookie World 3
Cookie Money 2019

Search Cookie Money, Cookie World, on music store


This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept