|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em low) |
|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em low) |
|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em) |
|
(and if you hit em in the face, I'll give em a body blow), oh |
|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em low) |
|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em low) |
|
You hit em high, I'ma hit em low (hit em) |
|
(we wrecking with flow, we in the studio), oh |
|
[Lil' Keke] |
|
We gon go up top, and go back down |
|
I'm quick to make your *******t lay down, and close the round |
|
A ******* going pound for pound, until the blood is found |
|
Snatch punks off the glass, like a Shaq rebound |
|
Got more depth young clown, cause we rep H-Town |
|
And we beat chumps down, at the lyricists lounge |
|
I hit em high, regroup then go to the bottom |
|
To his ass to his ribs, when he fold I got him |
|
If he still sitting up, then we work that grill |
|
Big judge young Don, serving raw and steel |
|
To the gate to the finish, this for CMG |
|
Another Ghetto Dreams, sponsored by S.U.C |
|
Got big swoll nuts, and as a matter of fact |
|
Get off my ******* young trick, or get your click looked at |
|
Spit bombs in the studio, they all atomic |
|
H.A.W.K. seal him in the face, I'ma catch him in the stomach |
|
Oh.. |
|
[Hook] |
|
[H.A.W.K.] |
|
Class is in session, I'ma spit with aggression |
|
And if I feel threatened, you better call witness protection |
|
Stop asking questions, five line connection |
|
Well connected, jinks, whites, blacks and mexicans |
|
7-1-3 *******, armored Texans |
|
In the three fo' deep, in my corner flexing |
|
Intersection, young cats is ******* with veterans |
|
Southside legends, killas that'll beat your head in |
|
Pop the lead in, hit you in the stomach and head and |
|
Pop your legs in, then straight leave you for dead and |
|
Enough is said and, move it on down the field |
|
Like the Kansas City Chiefs, and that ******* Vermeil |
|
This *******t is real, ******* how a ******* feel |
|
We moving like a freight train, trying to get that scrill |
|
I'm changing the game, with Don still changing lanes |
|
And with both of our brains, all we see is change |
|
[Hook] |
|
[Lil' Keke] |
|
The mic turn on, boy it's duck and cover |
|
Another pen getting pimped man, by me and my brother |
|
Never pimps my hand, cause I just don't love her |
|
When I'm in the studio, I do it like nan-nother |
|
And I'm one of a kind, they better find me a clone |
|
And you sure right sticks and stones, they break bones |
|
Rise like grits, when the *******t get thick |
|
Break em down so quick, sit him up on bricks |
|
[H.A.W.K.] |
|
I'ma hit all his licks, ******* all his chicks |
|
Wondering how I done it, cause I flow so sick |
|
Do the arithmetic, flow equals do' |
|
And **** plus flow, equals the take your hoe |
|
CMG, is ******* what that Ghetto D |
|
Trying to see, currency like Master P |
|
S.U.C., Big H.A.W.K. and Don Ke |
|
And with 20-20 vision, y'all still can't see |
|
Oh.. |
|
[Hook] |
