Str8 Slammin'
Freddie Gibbs Feat. Juicy J Lyrics


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Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash and
Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Thug niggas, and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
Puffing Swishers, and fucking hoes, we on the same shit
In the kitchen, gon' whip my weight up to a mansion
Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin

G.I. thuggin
Yes picture this Midwest nigga rollin'
Hardrock hustling
Bitches stick to the dick cuz you know a nigga holding
Living on some pimp shit
I'mma let y'all chase hoes, I'mma get chosen
Keep a bitch dick whipped
Got a whole lotta broads that'll bust that open
Fresh up off a straight dope stain
I know my clothes still smell like cocaine
The real niggas understand
I ain't trying to be the man
If you put it in my hands, it'll go mayne
I keep a whole thing or better pushed to the side
Got like 32 bells of bubba kush in the ride
If you wanna get high, all drugs I provide
Getting my thug on where I preside
Nigga been bust at, still I survive
Push packs and I live to tell it in my raps
Lost a couple homies, I can never get em back
Life got me stressed, so I'm twisting up a sack
I'm street certified, nigga -- check my stats
Back up to the wall cause I'm coming up to bat
And these little niggas said they got racks on racks
So the stick up man had to put the tax on the tax
Got damn

Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash and
Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Thug niggas, and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
Puffing Swishers, and fucking hoes, we on the same shit
In the kitchen, gon' whip my weight up to a mansion
Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin

Fuck what I'm worth
Still out here on the grind
Trying to stack racks
Racks on racks, never caught slipping
Nigga get wrong, it's a toe tag
Fucks with the hood
Still eat good
Hanging with the killers with the black masks
They will kidnap your wife and kids
You niggas don't want that
Do what we gotta do to make it
Hope them jackers won't take it
If a nigga violate me I heard my young nigga's gon erase em
I don't fight over no bitches but I kill for bread
And I don't hang out with no niggas that sleep with Feds
Ride down on your block with that chopper, let that bitch go
If you try to open shop up, that shit closed
Money and the power
What we hustle for?
We already run ya house, ain't no kicking doors

Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash and
Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Thug niggas, and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
Puffing Swishers, and fucking hoes, we on the same shit




In the kitchen, gon' whip my weight up to a mansion
Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin

Overall Meaning

The song "Str8 Slammin'" by Freddie Gibbs featuring Juicy J is a depiction of drug dealing and street life. The lyrics talk about the hustle to make money to get to the top through whatever means necessary. The verses show the harsh realities of street life, with lines such as "Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash and / Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it."


The song's chorus repeats the title phrase "Str8 Slammin'," which refers to the hustler making eight figures in the drug game, representing the ultimate success in this world. The lyrics also talk about the camaraderie amongst drug dealers and the lifestyle that comes with it.


Overall, the song is a commentary on the dangers and allure of the drug game, with a focus on the grind and the sacrifices that those in the game must make to achieve financial success.


Line by Line Meaning

Can you picture a nigga out here clocking cash and
Can you imagine a black man making money by any means necessary?


Pulling stick ups, I guess I had to Glock and mask it
Robbing people with a gun while wearing a mask is necessary for survival


Nine zippers, let's bust that open, cut and bag it
Breaking open 9 bags of drugs and preparing them for sale


Water whipper, I'm in the kitchen Str8 Slammin'
Cooking drugs in the kitchen to sell


Thug niggas, and drug dealers, that's all I hang with
I only associate with criminals and drug dealers


Puffing Swishers, and fucking hoes, we on the same shit
Smoking cigars and having sex with promiscuous women is what my friends and I do


In the kitchen, gon' whip my weight up to a mansion
I plan to make enough money selling drugs to buy a big house


Eight figures, that's what I call Str8 Slammin
Making tens of millions of dollars selling drugs is what I consider successful


Fuck what I'm worth
I'm not concerned with my net worth


Still out here on the grind
I'm still hustling to make money


Trying to stack racks
I'm focused on accumulating a lot of cash


Racks on racks, never caught slipping
I always have a lot of money and never get robbed


Nigga get wrong, it's a toe tag
If someone messes with me, they will end up dead


Hanging with the killers with the black masks
I associate with deadly criminals who wear masks


They will kidnap your wife and kids
My associates are capable of kidnapping family members to get what they want


Do what we gotta do to make it
We will do whatever it takes to succeed


Hope them jackers won't take it
I hope robbers won't steal my money


If a nigga violate me I heard my young nigga's gon erase em
If someone disrespects me, I have younger people who will kill them


I don't fight over no bitches but I kill for bread
I won't argue over women, but I will kill for money


And I don't hang out with no niggas that sleep with Feds
I don't associate with anyone who cooperates with law enforcement


Ride down on your block with that chopper, let that bitch go
I will drive to your location with a gun and start shooting


If you try to open shop up, that shit closed
If you try to start your own drug operation, I will shut you down


Money and the power
I am motivated by wealth and control


What we hustle for?
Why else would we be working so hard?


We already run ya house, ain't no kicking doors
We already control your territory, there's no need to break in anymore




Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: TIPTON FREDRICK JAMEL

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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