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I was rollin' through the hood one day |
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Thought shit den calmed down,"gang-bangin'" den played out by the years since |
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I den been around |
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Ain't talked to nobody from my block |
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Cause all my niggas is locked up |
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And it's been all ever |
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I seen wit a guillotine |
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So I was in the "cut supreme" |
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Fifteen grams and some "greenodine" |
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Ain't seen a block nigga since |
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But now I'm off that kill green(mothta****as ain't got no love for me)(niggas wanna put some slugs in me) |
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So I'm double 0 seven, murder redrum wit my three fifty seven |
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Brotha lynch hung, but the bitches call me kevin |
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They try to make me think they close to me, but neb'in [never] |
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You know I gots to (say high) stay high, keep recipts for alibis |
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And the meat they ate from them drive-bys ain't mine |
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Cause mine's a supe' desguise |
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As I swoop the skies high off that buddha |
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Tah mixed the cusche and the purple hairs |
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And it got me high(now I'm rollin on the river) |
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Labeled mr. fedex(cause them bodies I deliver) |
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Got to get to my next plot |
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Unlock the freezer get the meat for the "rocks" [rotweilers] |
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And heat the heat cause it's the "nine-neb'in" ['97] |
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And it's hot den a motha****a(all day everyday) i'mma stay loaded up, "krondike" in the trunk |
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And a pound full of james brown |
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Cause I gots to get loaded so hold up soldier[chorus: 2xs] |
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The count goes(one more pound of smoke and it's guaranteed to make a motha****a choke)(ain't got no down ass bitch at my sideBut I got some bomb ass weed in my ride) |
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Nothin but notches, booches |
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Fill my pockets, hit 'em up everyday, gotta have my pay |
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The gaungay got me high now |
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I'm paranoida den these booches |
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Filthy rich, i'mma take the loot |
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And the dig a ditch, tell your neighborhood bitch |
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To miss me with that hoe shit |
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Cause i'mma get this nigga when he surface |
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And that's on everything |
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I love, I gots to split his wig |
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Opened up the little blue packet, stung him like a yellow-jacket |
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Rib cage heavily padded, hit him with the automatic shells |
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Send him to hell express from his mailing address |
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We got his name, for sho', then we went to the house and did that shit |
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I know I said |
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I do it alone in the pass, everybody in the neighborhood knew |
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Somebody betta jack his ass up like a six-four impala |
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You floatin' on dirty water |
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Pack your shit up nigga like it's on only you and your ? woda-goda? |
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Track your ass down, smoke your last pound[chorus 2xs](if you smell any smoke it's just me and my homies gettin' blown) |
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And I was late gettin' home, intoxicated |
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Fight with my old lady |
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She was comin at unreal, hit the blunt and now she's animated |
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Motivate through you like a foggy mist |
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You can hold me in your chest-plate like that nitro hit |
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First degree told me if the weed can toss |
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It'll talk some shit, gotta get me an underspot |
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Make me a hemp museum like b-legit |
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I'm tryin to bump my head on the moon |
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Live so high up in the mountains eatin' snake meat, fried raccoons |
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With a attitude |
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I need food to eat up |
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Smoke a fat blunt on my couch with my feet up |
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Top notch program, dos mode indo 95 upgrade siccmade |
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Stay paid til the day on the ground, i'mma lay, i'mma stay loaded up |
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In my trunk |
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I got the blow you up and it'll blow you up |
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And the count goes[brotha lynch hung sends out shout outs til the end] |
