"St. Juliana" lyrics
Boldy James & Conductor Williams Lyrics
(Conductor)
A million dollars worth of jewelry in the back alley, no security
Yeah (227)
Where we at?
I put them grits in the shift, then let the work shuffle
But the coca leaves was my first hustle
Got the blow for cheap, jumpin' off the top turnbuckle
My neighborhood streets was hard as a bricky
Brand new AR with a switchy
It ain't no love in the heart of the city
I make them birds take a bath, pull up, paper tag
Camo Carhartt coveralls, but this a Bape collab
Take me back, back in the day to my mi amor
Back in the day where you could disguise bein' poor
I miss that old Hell block, I brought the flame back
This that real East One shit across the train tracks
Conductor, all of the sales I conducted
Now I'm hoppin' out a UFO, look like I've been abducted
If we should fall, one of us should be each other's crutches
Ain't no more runnin' from police, obstructing the justice
Flock in ten seventeens like I'm Wooh da Kid
Now that Rolls parked at the trap just to shoot a vid'
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if you that for real
In my hood, you only good as the last nigga that you killed
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if you that for real
Behind my name, niggas pushin' up daisies and daffodils
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if it's that for real
I'll leave your brains all on the kids' menu like a Happy Meal
Ain't where you from, it's where you at with it
Repeat after me, ain't no love in the streets for a trap nigga
I mean, no matter how hard they try to turn this shit
I keep my image, name, and my face card clean
New ARP with the Laser Quest, AK with the bayonet
A hundred sherbet bowls in the sprinter van
Six-hundred grits of Errol Flynn stuffed in the minivan
Packed up the raw with no gloves, just fucked up my dinner plans
We eat the most, play with gang, nigga, we gon' wet 'em
Married to the game, them cakes whiter than a nice wedding
One baby mama, two kids, rich off a minute phone
I'm really two commas in, seven figures strong
Left of the decimal
Just meet Pedro and the Texaco, thuggin' from Zone 6 to lil' Mexico
All of these exes and overs, it's all X and O
You know it's all love
I love your new music
And new cars
You don't have a new car
Yes, I do
Which one?
A few
On your rank?
Big shits, big expensive shits
A million dollars worth of jewelry in the back alley, no security
Yeah (227)
Where we at?
I put them grits in the shift, then let the work shuffle
But the coca leaves was my first hustle
Got the blow for cheap, jumpin' off the top turnbuckle
My neighborhood streets was hard as a bricky
Brand new AR with a switchy
It ain't no love in the heart of the city
I make them birds take a bath, pull up, paper tag
Camo Carhartt coveralls, but this a Bape collab
Take me back, back in the day to my mi amor
Back in the day where you could disguise bein' poor
I miss that old Hell block, I brought the flame back
This that real East One shit across the train tracks
Conductor, all of the sales I conducted
Now I'm hoppin' out a UFO, look like I've been abducted
If we should fall, one of us should be each other's crutches
Ain't no more runnin' from police, obstructing the justice
Flock in ten seventeens like I'm Wooh da Kid
Now that Rolls parked at the trap just to shoot a vid'
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if you that for real
In my hood, you only good as the last nigga that you killed
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if you that for real
Behind my name, niggas pushin' up daisies and daffodils
Ain't where you from, it's where you at if it's that for real
I'll leave your brains all on the kids' menu like a Happy Meal
Ain't where you from, it's where you at with it
Repeat after me, ain't no love in the streets for a trap nigga
I mean, no matter how hard they try to turn this shit
I keep my image, name, and my face card clean
New ARP with the Laser Quest, AK with the bayonet
A hundred sherbet bowls in the sprinter van
Six-hundred grits of Errol Flynn stuffed in the minivan
Packed up the raw with no gloves, just fucked up my dinner plans
We eat the most, play with gang, nigga, we gon' wet 'em
Married to the game, them cakes whiter than a nice wedding
One baby mama, two kids, rich off a minute phone
I'm really two commas in, seven figures strong
Left of the decimal
Just meet Pedro and the Texaco, thuggin' from Zone 6 to lil' Mexico
All of these exes and overs, it's all X and O
You know it's all love
I love your new music
And new cars
You don't have a new car
Yes, I do
Which one?
A few
On your rank?
Big shits, big expensive shits
