This is a song about "Made for the street"

Yeah, uh, where's the love for the sixteen writers

Made humans hope for the day they'll be carried on a hearse

Put through the street, home was no place for me.

20 racks really thats sneaker money

Leave you severed across the street

Fulfilling voids of broke d-boys sellin' weed

Carried off the playground into the street.

Your mouth, i don't need, your legs, you can keep

If you saw me on the street

Yea i'm missin some sleep

I'm the nigga on the back street

I said i got my ass beat

And passed around the dorm, you can hear his asshole gettin' tornthey made me an animal, can't sleep

If it doesn’t work all i gotta do is wait for the word on street to internationally leak,

To make karma come faster than she normally will

I went in #for #the #kill and polluted the street, oil spill