Lyrics:
from the bottom, they Post to hate it no Houston got me rocket' like John
Wall Richard swartz 12 , pullin' up, I make
One call With them semis tucked
Where my bitches is at?
We got the real live shit from front to back
To my people in the world, where the fuck you at?
Where my niggaz is at?
Where
a strap for those devilish men
Sucka better duck-a from the buck, buck, bucka!
Do a fly-by and shoot your aunt and your uncle
Does anybody understand
mean, I feel you
I've got to keep on pushin'
I'm on the corner from sun up to sun down
Competition gettin' hectic, I'm headed for out of town
What I
on the corner from sun up to sun down
Competition gettin' hectic, I'm headed for out of town
What I was, sellin' for twenty, niggaz sellin' for ten
So I'm
Chorus:
Hillwood
Hustlaz
You can't
See us
We run
Houston
Thousands
Of tons
First Verse:
I'll take my gun and make you run
'cause it really don't
like a mighty duck
Niggas talkin out they neck but I could never give a fuck
We could get it poppin pussy nigga we could run it up
Almost caught me
nothing wrong with me
Two, nothing wrong with me
Three days since the living room
Three, nothing wrong with me
Four, nothing wrong with me
I realized it's
with his head
Bullets kick his back, if he try to duck & run off on his mans
Check me out nigga, I did 25k off like three albums by myself nigga
They
navy, two hundred zero ad
Still live shit, spit to divide cliques on some wise guy shit
Same chick from the ?, pretty eyes lips, thighs hips everything
like I'm showin' up for somethin'
I lay down Houston around nine, warehouse live
Was my worst show ever, nigga's damn near got boo'd off stage
I
means)
(By any means) You already know
I'm Mr. 334
Knock at your door (Hm)
You know how it go
I'm from down that road
I ain't have shit but hope (Hey)
Just
I was born to be a soldier!
[Chorus: x4]
[Fiend]
Bringin bags and weed
Lil Fiend live by the soldiers creed
Of broken no seed in the botton
Break me off proper, gun in that doctor
Gats at yo head, call me Mr. Non-stopper
Tech 9 shooter, lady, ruder
Down South hustla, West Coast ruler
3
Stay down with da buisness
Let me finish I'm tryna open doors
Smoking on dat killa
I admit dat I stay fully loaded
Heard dat she gone stay down like
Drom) s) ni ok3 ha w)
We never coming down from the top floor
Drom) s) ni ok3 ha w)
Even in the drought you see us smiling
Drom) s) ni ok3 ha w)
We never
Smith, Emmitt, Emmitt Smith
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
Finessing the plug
I run with that sack and I make
Sometimes it's hard to speak what I keep inside
So I just lay it down on the track with rhymes
Can't see me, I've been lurking man, I'm straight up from
I never ever ran from the Ku Klux Klan
And I shouldn't have to run from a black man
'Cause that's
Self destruction
You're headed for self destruction
I'm from the old hood, somethin' like yo' hood
Where niggas don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it
comfortable, I'll be counting back from five, I just want why
Relax, and just think of nothing.
[three farts in succession]
Gary phelps: are you gonna keep doing
write in the light of day and in the night for pay, nigga!
You my main motherfucker, right?
You duck and hide when Pep Love touch a mic
Out the back door
wanna fill my dish with tears dropping down
regret of the moment
smashed doors numerous times on my nose
I got fake tricks
they didn't serve me like they
the Goldtoes
Kickin' down doors
In the club, hoes recognize a C-E-O
Man, that's fa' sho
I'm from the 'Sco
Where they get they pimp on
And blowing the hydro
I
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