Street Talk

[Intro: C-Rayz Walz]
Street. Talk. Street

[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz]
With each thought, my street talk express rhythm in hindsight
In deep breath, the day could be death living a night life
This is speech to the heat of the beat and how it burns
Cowards learn tricks and chicks be on E! like Howard Stern
Now it’s earned. World turns—it’s just the days of our lives
Forsaken, now eyes losing vision as we pray to the sky
Your boy said, “The streets is watching.” ‘Cause we flow, they talking
My rhymes think they got a father—they don’t know they orphans
A lone man theory—only those from my tribe hear me
Lonely souls roam on the crossroads—they die near me
So take your time when you tasting the wine, tracing the lines
‘Cause the joys of bliss, like this, might be erasing your mind
So gloat from within, spit lead, explode with the pen (They sin)
From the beginning, you already know it’s the end
If the beat bumping bass in your face, pardon me—peace
I know it’s hard, but stroll with the gods on this Odyssey street

[Hook: Ryan Perfect] (x2)
Ayyo, the streets what I talk. Talk what I see
See what I live. Live what I be. Being from Queens
Queens to LA, kids who live seen what I be
I talk to the streets. The streets talk to me

[Verse 2: Ryan Perfect]
(Check it). Yeah. Yo. I raise hell like I was Satan’s father
The brother of God can fight the fate of Karma—wait!
Laser revolver fade your tomorrow. Stand real far away
From the drama. Pray to me mama is what I ask from y’all
My chain’s a halo of gold no longer levitating, fallen
Watching the way that it glow is sure to hurt your face, you know
Think daughters angelic, so my niggas circulating
The load in my piece’ll show my chest—embrace it
Every thought is a prequel. Write words and spit sequels
I promise I’ll never give you nothing feeble
It’s not me thieving you, dog—it’s your peoples
Matter fact, it’s you for believing they believe in you
When you’re raping yourself, thinking “I believe it’s Sue
I believe it’s true.” You sound like who you listen to

[Hook: Ryan Perfect] (x2)
Ayyo, the streets what I talk. Talk what I see
See what I live. Live what I be. Being from Queens
Queens to LA, kids who live seen what I be
I talk to the streets. The streets talk to me

[Verse 3: Wordsworth]
Yo, yo, ayyo, the streets is what I talk. I see the weakness in your walk
The deepness of my thoughts display the ways we speaking in New York
Talk what I see: happiness and misery
Handcuffing—hoping these cops don’t plant nothing when they pat, frisking me
Rap visibly—picture what you hear. Description so you aware
Whispers in ears get you convicted to the chair
We don’t see our vision’s impaired—we conflicted by kicks and some gear
So we can appear to look drinks in despair
And the globe is controlled by the most richest
And on this road to success, there’s some toll bridges
No shortcuts—nothing less, you gotta go the distance
You gotta try to get across, but when that road is finished... (Uh huh)
Words symbolizes a pilot that win dependence—got it
It coincides with the music in your environment
It’s so intense when I inscribe it (That what?)
That you got your own private movie screening when you close your eyelids