Street Clothes (feat. Planet Asia)

And if you ain't down, you better not hang around
Let's, let's party at the gym this time
The song ain't even came out yet, but fuck it, we gon' remix it right now, know what I mean?
I just have to tell these motherfuckers, man, they can't fuck with me with this rap shit
I was just sayin' that the other day
I'ma show you why niggas can't fuck with me in this rap shit, know what I'm sayin'?
Know what I mean?
Real shit, know what I mean?

Let's knock another joint out
Fly shit I point out proper
Swiss vanilla bean ice cream in your mouth
I'm pimping her
System fucker censor her
Expensive fuck solicitor
Lash of L shrimp
Tempera I'm just a welder
Wise word spoke
Reflects the knowledge of my elders
Yellow gold feral on a figaro
Conscious caking
Metal on me though it's forbidden
I still might hit you with
Asalaamu Alaikum
Feel these ninja stars reaching you
Next time I won't miss trying this
Catch you leaking that all star
We can keep a fifth
Like a bottle of lick
Niggas get followed and hit
My goons get it fast
Quicker than the first lick
Turf shit
Coward I earth shit
Niggas get they skirt lifted
Rat packing pussies in they church fits
Hustle till I'm dirt rich
Basehead buckets and rentals
You're now looking at a mogul that's under construction

In my street clothes
Or a three piece suit
Don't matter your bitches still let me beat those
Keep keep on frontin and stuntin
While I just keep hustlin and hustlin
In my street clothes
Or a three piece suit
Don't matter your bitches still let me beat those
Keep keep on frontin and stuntin
Well, I just keep hustling and hustling

I'm a dinosaur, vinyl connoisseur
This is big league, bitch, not the final four
Fill it in your spinal cord, time to record
I'm like a iron board, stylish stacks
Rolling racks and more Gouda
Clouds of Buddha, welcome to the future
The twenty-first century human computer
My advice is quit trying to fly the hoes
Out here looking like apple pie a la mode
I could rock South Africa like a Cali show
So cold I could make the Central Valley snow
Two thousand and something, I'm still 'bout it though
My promo poster, me holding the Calico
The fiend still asking how much I got it for
Okay here's another line for your powdered nose
Show some loyalty to the royalty
I'm a whole cartel you just a quarter key

In my street clothes or a three piece suit
Don't matter your bitches still let me beat those
Keep keep on frontin' and stuntin'
Well, I just keep hustlin' and hustlin'
In my street clothes or a three-piece suit
Don't matter, your bitches still let me beat those
Keep, keep on frontin' and stuntin'
Well, I just keep hustlin' and hustlin'

You know what I mean?
That's that one-take shit right there
That's how they used to do it back in the days, man
There wasn't no punch-ins and shit like that
That's real rap, nigga
You know what I mean?
And I ain't no old nigga either, you feel me?
This is real rap
Authentic shit
Shoutout to Madlib