"Canal Street" lyrics
—"Yeah. Ayo, y'all ready, right? Aight. None of that fronting shit, neither, nigga, it's broad-day. Word up, the store is over there, nigga, let's go. Yeah, they got the big jewelry in the window. You seen that shit? You better come seen that other shit, right? Good good, that's me right there, ayo you—all you gotta do is just come with the bricks, son. I got a big brick in the motherfucking Louis bag, nigga. Take that, just smash the shit out. About four-five niggas gon' slip in."
—"Professionals. Immediately, nigga. What the fuck this nigga talking 'bout? Have I ever fronted on you nigga? Aight. Yo, you grab the three from him. You grab the heat holders. You grab the watches, nigga."
—"Move! Let's go. Police. Come on, son! They're right down the block, nigga."
—"Y'all got that? Good!"
—"Meet you at the train station. One, son!"
All of our fathers is bank robbers holdin' TECs
Eighths of hero'n, shooting in the steps
In the 60s, niggas was poor, check the revelation
Now, we rock 6-50s in the snow
AKs, ARs, wire jaws, say ours
YSL frames in the rain, Marvin Gaye on
Goose bubbles on, stuck in the huddle, tryna transform
Every gram action to a sandstorm
Fly through my block, you live, make a bitch stop
Have your shit cocked yo, niggas might dive on you
All we wear is Filas, Guess, suede fronts, beehives
Bally sneakers, big jewels, Levi's
Back to slinging every 45 minutes
Gs fleeing, fiends is in the building OD'ing
The drugs is in the ground, burners on the side of our legs
It's gonna happen, so you know we low-keying
Yeah, can't sell in here, yup, I said it
Yeah, can't tell in here, they want credit, niggas
Just a lifestyle, the holders with the drugs is dreaded
Just a typical day to get wiped out
Broad-day jungle, living with the rodents
The goons'll run through, blow a bag and hunt you
Always flaky, calluses, hands
My mans come through the avenue, Swiss cheese patrons
Blood that flood the hall, every head'll drop
Jump in the Maybach, switch the station
These rap niggas is washed, hang 'em on the pole, no head
Pajama top, handcuff with a gosha
We realer than the Spanglers Rep Posse squad; that's dangerous
Take it back to the Lees and Wranglers
Take what we want, explain this
Famous for my kitchen knives, rings, and the fifths are stainless
Gun down your trooper, grenade your coupe up
Plain and simple niggas is poo-butt
Fuck with my crew, what? Either you shot or you cut
"Real nigga to real nigga, man, you know how we get down, man"
Back to slinging every 45 minutes
Gs fleeing, fiends is in the building OD'ing
The drugs is in the ground, burners on the side of our legs
It's gonna happen, so you know we low-keying
Yeah, can't sell in here, yup, I said it
Yeah, can't tell in here, they want credit, niggas
Just a lifestyle, the holders with the drugs is dreaded
Just a typical day to get wiped out
—"Professionals. Immediately, nigga. What the fuck this nigga talking 'bout? Have I ever fronted on you nigga? Aight. Yo, you grab the three from him. You grab the heat holders. You grab the watches, nigga."
—"Move! Let's go. Police. Come on, son! They're right down the block, nigga."
—"Y'all got that? Good!"
—"Meet you at the train station. One, son!"
All of our fathers is bank robbers holdin' TECs
Eighths of hero'n, shooting in the steps
In the 60s, niggas was poor, check the revelation
Now, we rock 6-50s in the snow
AKs, ARs, wire jaws, say ours
YSL frames in the rain, Marvin Gaye on
Goose bubbles on, stuck in the huddle, tryna transform
Every gram action to a sandstorm
Fly through my block, you live, make a bitch stop
Have your shit cocked yo, niggas might dive on you
All we wear is Filas, Guess, suede fronts, beehives
Bally sneakers, big jewels, Levi's
Back to slinging every 45 minutes
Gs fleeing, fiends is in the building OD'ing
The drugs is in the ground, burners on the side of our legs
It's gonna happen, so you know we low-keying
Yeah, can't sell in here, yup, I said it
Yeah, can't tell in here, they want credit, niggas
Just a lifestyle, the holders with the drugs is dreaded
Just a typical day to get wiped out
Broad-day jungle, living with the rodents
The goons'll run through, blow a bag and hunt you
Always flaky, calluses, hands
My mans come through the avenue, Swiss cheese patrons
Blood that flood the hall, every head'll drop
Jump in the Maybach, switch the station
These rap niggas is washed, hang 'em on the pole, no head
Pajama top, handcuff with a gosha
We realer than the Spanglers Rep Posse squad; that's dangerous
Take it back to the Lees and Wranglers
Take what we want, explain this
Famous for my kitchen knives, rings, and the fifths are stainless
Gun down your trooper, grenade your coupe up
Plain and simple niggas is poo-butt
Fuck with my crew, what? Either you shot or you cut
"Real nigga to real nigga, man, you know how we get down, man"
Back to slinging every 45 minutes
Gs fleeing, fiends is in the building OD'ing
The drugs is in the ground, burners on the side of our legs
It's gonna happen, so you know we low-keying
Yeah, can't sell in here, yup, I said it
Yeah, can't tell in here, they want credit, niggas
Just a lifestyle, the holders with the drugs is dreaded
Just a typical day to get wiped out
Writer(s): Corey Woods
