Thanks to younghtownplaya@aol.com for these lyrics.



[First Verse]

My sweet Lac fall back just creepin' on three wheels

A bitch to my right cocked giving me cheap thrills

I see meals, coming down my path

In the ghetto cat's wrath making math

I'm the last to blast, on that ass now you the past

It's no joke you get smoked like buddah grass

Who the fastest punk em' like cashes

And when I crash this you catch whiplashes

Bitch I'm on a mission to listen and give descriptions

Hung G's in my hood in their intentions

I hear gunshots ringing like hell's bells

I see drug sells check out my thug tales

Fuck jails, bank swells keeps hella grip

And I can sell dope on ice, and never slip

They serving Kibbles N' Bits while I'm cooking bricks

Save my crumbs for the ones who sucking dicks

I made it rich on the ditch you quick snap

I left that cut now they wonder where the brick's at

My green shit stacks, still clip packs

Thirty-six lead homies so don't trip jack

It's the wet back hitting on the bongs

Son in the long run, I'll be the strong one.



Chorus: (4X)

If you step in my hood bitch you will get blasted

It's nothin but that h-town g-funk



(Yeah this is for all them hustlers in Hillwood, South Park. Huh.)



[Second Verse]

I told yah, boy you must have caught amnesia

Trying to jack now you're on your back breathing anastesia

You got blasted cuz you trespassed it

They never lasted, in the game I mastered

You stupid bastard, tell me what's your final word

Before I let this lead tip hit your spinal cord

Oh you was ready just begging to gank me

Now your ass is just dead and stanky

I put my foot in your shit like the hokey pokey

Leave the scene, now everything's okie dokie

Your homies know me, but they won't fuck with this

Cuz now they know that I could show buck a bitch

I'm the macker plus the gun packer

So you little jackers best stick to crackers

Cuz fucking with this mex gets your neck broke

Stuck like chuck straight fucked and in check Loc

Cuz I think fast when I'm in the slow lane

Get in my domain and fall back with no brain

So dont raid, or try to rain on my parade

Cuz i'm strapped from my blade, to my grenade.



Chorus



[Third Verse]

My sweet Texas, restless, wanting to ride Lexus

Check this or flex this, I get wreckless

Unbelievable lyrical synical

Here we go mary go round I down critical

Street stamina dammin' a cop

Slammin' a punk, and jam in my funk

I'm the man with the skill foreal

Guard my grill with steel, on Sundays I kneel

On my knees to Jesus, please seize us

Cuz my boy's in trouble, and he needs us

Got a bat, my homie's on the double

Punks want trouble, I bam bam rubble

Still the son of a gun having big fun

Come and get some, I leave you wet mon

Fill your lead with an infared

I put the best to bed, they call him dead fucking fred

Shed my skin like a snake on a vine

Climbing on the crime side, coming around the blind side

We fall in ranks like a motherfucking pyramid

And I'm the top block will I stop never did

Make you pass the 9th grade, but got life made

Chose that dope and I hope I picked the right trade.



Chorus