Renegade Lyrics - More Street Dreams Pt. 2 : The Mixtape - Fabolous

Uh, you think I give a fuck about 

What these niggas say man 

They even talked about Jesus 

I ain't mad at when it rain, 'cause I know the sun is somewhere shinin' 

Sorta like some clear diamonds 

I hardly see my moms, but she know her son is somewhere grindin' 

Some where rhymin', or somewhere climbin' 

Out of a pottable 760, inclasable very sticky 

Wit a handgun, to send these cowards to Heaven quickly 

I ain't pussy, so I won't allow you to ever dick me 

I know these grease balls, wonder how could they ever stick me 

But I move, like the President through town 

Wit stones the size of earrings, in my Presidential crown 

I put hollows from the Desert into clowns, 'cause the cometary 

Is where most of the dudes, that are hesitant are found 

Related 

Naughty & Nice Christmas Songs 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

So I take the time, of whatever the bench throws 

The 4BM put down, in a seventy-two inch hole 

Mean while getting adapted, to the fame has be hectic 

But I'm fucking like I'm tryna take down Chamberlain's record 

And the girls more than like you, when you running around 

Doing world tours like Michael, but girl's sure don't like you 

You going on like thirty-six, flowin' on some berry mix 

The little money you get, you blowing on them dirty chicks 

Tryna look young, so you throwing on the jersey quick 

I'm on my second V-12, you going on ya thirty-six 

You can look at this rider, and see I'm on the come-up 

'Cause I pass the hitch-hikers, like I don't see 'em with they thumb up 

I just turn the system up and keep boppin' 

I never get, where I'm tryna go, if a nigga keep stoppin' 

And I tell the cops, this joint is for protection 

Don't they see when I come through 

Photos 

How these people point in my direction 

That's why I poke out my jeans 

Like my joint with a erection 

Till I'm in a joint made for correction 

And right now, the way rapper bi'ness spread 

It wouldn't even surprise me 

If one of these rappers is a Fed, nigga 

Since I'm in the position to get rich, I'ma get it 

Whether it come from rapping on blocks, flippin' and pitchin' 

And fuck the stove, and the kitchen where I cook and prepare it 

Nigga you know and don't try to act like the truth ain't apparent 

I'm on a mission to get richer, it's as simple as that 

I make it obvious, when I pick up a pencil and rap 

Like a .40 Cal, spittin' on instrumentals I clap 

And these s, are like the hollow point I sent through yo back 

I get you murdered if I think you a rat 

'Cause if you don't show loyalty 

Then that show me where ya principles at 

And you don't know how much I been through, in fact 

I never did like you, I ain't even gon' pretend wit you cats 

And I'm the nicest, I ain't gotta say it twice and repeat it 

I'ma draw my weapon and squeeze it, you better believe it 

Leave you parapaligic, I demand respect and I mean it 

My Desert's the meanest, you probably dead if you seen it 

Or spored out somewhere sick, you get red on the cement 

And I blow off ya head for no reason and just when I'm leavin' 

You don't know me ya owe me homie 

But the spread make us even, blow 

And the bad part about it is man 

I'm only twenty years old man 

And I'm just havin' fun 

Man I ain't even tryin' man 

Desert Storm's youngest and in charge man 

Paul Cain, man 

Yo Fab man, you ain't even gotta go hard man 

I got these niggas man 

Clue, holla at cha boy, Skatin' Dolla 

Duro, it's our year man 

Desert Storm, we gon' kill niggas man 

You already know what it is it's a ho'cide man 

Stop, "Street Dreamin"