Sports Or Streets Lyrics

Mistah FAB

Nig Latin

Lyrics to Sports Or Streets
Sports Or Streets Video:
Hook:
3 pointers or street corners
50 yard line or yard time
Either gone be batter up
Or strike out
Its gettin dim yall
Time to pull the lights out
Jump shot or bunk spot
Either playin quarter back or your runnin the block
Either pitcher on the mound thats controllin the game
Or a peppah n the garden 5.0 knowin ya name

Verse 1:

One out of seven kids make it out my part of the map
Full of marks men and everybodys target is scratch
Fools be eyin ya loot
With their eye on your boots
Schools be lyin the root
Falsifyin the truth
Kids try hoop
Somehow you handle the ball
And you really could be in there
If you land over tall
Probaly get a scholoy'
Be star for Cal Polly
Flip a big Deanali
And marry a hot tamale
But what if you get there
And dislocate your knee
Your just another black with a face
Another black with a plee
Get sent back to your place
Sellin crack for your cheese
No coaches want to get you
Its to much to risk
Life becoming to fast
Its to much to quick
And your back up on your bills
Owe two months of rent
So you puff to blunts pent
To boost your high
Gather your troops and ride
Steady asking why


Hook


Verse II:

Sports or steets
Be the only choices we got
In my neighborhood
5.0 they posion the block
Go to school with wild peppahs
All them boys is hot
Try to concentrate
But sometimes your poise gets stop
Play football and ya you be the best on the field
But in the classroom all your tests look ill
Coaches get you pass
They say they need ya ass
Change report cards
Because they say your knees that fast
Never get you help
Just change grades n stuff
Go from f minus's to them A's with plus
Get you college pass
But you dumb and not smart
Ineligible for the team
So its back to where you start
Couldn't handle college courses but you know the street
Now you packin heat
Just to get somthin to eat
Sound cruel ?
Man this happen all the time
From lil blocks and big blocks
Yalls and mine


Hook

Verse III:

Either way it go
We be still athelites
Wether running for the ball
Or caught in a Task sweep
Pitcher pitcher please get us out of a jam
But damn
The coach dont even know young sam
He just a power arm black from the hood
Soon as he mess up throw him back in the woods
Task attack him and they smack him up good
Think of a way up out of this here?
Take action you should
Cause what could happen you could be stranded
With dead time on your shoulders
Wanna get breaded
You start slangin bolders
Sports couldnt get you over
So you hustle for cheese
Keep these rules up in ya mind
Never mess with police
Caught in a sweep
Mid day start of the week
Heart drop
Voice elapsed
Soon as u started to speak
8 rocks fifth of gin
Pistol loded with ten
Finger prints match up
2 11 and more
For the home run you just hit they fittin even the score
Even the score....(fade)
Songwriters:
Publisher:
Powered by LyricFind