Lyrics:
Custom Streets

why i oh why sometimes it's time to think about it sometimes it's time to find time he may be her lucky penny that she'll never get to shine the streets

but I am from New Orleans I can't lie, I lust for things Like an old-school black Old Cut supreme Or an iced-out G shock and a custom ring And a freak

shit Roll up on him don't budge, bitch With my mack and my tech And my vest, just like that For them niggas thinkin' Mack Milli not really from the streets

hundred regardless Shrimp scampy odor everytime I fork chick Trap nigga conversate with a harvard smart bitch I'm young rich and heartless, put you on a cartoon Cartoon jewlry customized

women Why you speed ball with cards, that's invalid I get clothes, custom made, from a stylist Cruise in my Lexus Land with no mileage While you walk the street

a whole 'nother level dawg, Grown since a teenager, mobile phones and Sky Pagers Brought up in the projects, now we ballin' skyscrapers H2s and Escalades, customized

[Akon:] I ain't for all that beef-ay, got niggas to bust ya head for no reason Ask around the streets man I'm certified, cross seas all my customers are

ya, break ya, break ya Chorus: Bilal (singing) Pimps, ho's, hustlers, plans, dealers, customers, and bodies stuck in it, Oh my god Pimps, ho's, hustlers, plans, dealers, customers

Please come over to 81st street, I'm in the apartment, above the bar You know you can't miss it, it's across from the subway And the tacky store with