Streets Dried Up - Mr. Criminal

Dedicated to the silent

Not many left

What happened to the streets

What happened to the real

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Trucha when you bang might lay in some chalk

And keep your lips sealed cause gangsters don’t talk

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Either Homies turn into Enemies, shakier than frost

Keep trucha who you keep close, cause gangsters don’t talk

Let me tell a little story about a little homie from my old street,

this little loc would do anything for the homies

Used to daydream of one day being an OG and would do anything to finally have

his own heat

He used to have to call to borrow one

Committing crimes, this little foo was always on the run, kicked out of class

really no one else to blame

Got jumped in now he got himself a nickname

Committed in the street gang, blasting enemies on sight, anything to get his

street fame

Little hyenas knew him on the block, he sold his nickel sacks foos his age

would no trip, cause OGs had his back

He robbed a house and finally got a strap, enemies slashed his neck,

now there’s no looking back

Sad to say just like a rat he got caught in a trap

Rat-a-tat-tat you know he had a blast

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Trucha when you bang might lay in some chalk

And keep your lips sealed cause gangsters don’t talk

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Either Homies turn into Enemies, shakier than frost

Keep trucha who you keep close, cause gangsters don’t talk

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Vatos these days, bitches turning into snitches

Vatos get the business, getting caught up with the sickness

And these lames are falling sideways, was going on I feel you Marvin shit

But now in my days haters talking mad but still they smile in my face

No matter what I’m number 1 in my race, repping stuff for my race and my brown

skin

In the end who went enemies who changed from friends

Ever since a kid I had these visions that came true

Robberies and gunshots, street life was all I knew

But still a Criminal reps that color Blue

Streets Dried up now I’m looking like what’s up with you, vatos straight hit

the switch like a lowride used to be on G shit now lets go by

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Trucha when you bang might lay in some chalk

And keep your lips sealed cause gangsters don’t talk

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Either Homies turn into Enemies, shakier than frost

Keep trucha who you keep close, cause gangsters don’t talk

Even got a homie I grew up with matter fact a couple of them

Never say they names, no fame I ain’t fucking with em

Straight turn to tweakers, but at a point in their life they were like fans on

the bleachers

Used to have my back only if the situation benefits

Nowadays I shine them off these haters ain’t shit, even if they’re from my own

side

Fuck them on the real, a Criminal has to much pride

«Why you talking foul ese, why you talking loud»

Ese what the fuck you talking about, you sounding like a motherfucking bitch

right now

Get your face crossed out, fucking with my lifestyle

On the real I swear to God, make this promise right now

Run up on me put a shot right between your eyebrows

Straight from the Westside till my death

Streets dried up but the Criminal represents

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Trucha when you bang might lay in some chalk

And keep your lips sealed cause gangsters don’t talk

Streets Dried up use to think it would last

But being a real G, that’s a thing of the past

Either Homies turn into Enemies, shakier than frost

Keep trucha who you keep close, cause gangsters don’t talk