Iatola

Uh, I'm meetin' up with the governor

3-2 and the Hillwood Hustla

Comin straight out the head though

From the brain representin' my ghetto

It's a trip how they die young

In the hood in my Cadillac flyer

Thru the 'Wood, wit my homie Iatola in the Clover

Pink soda, mind of a noter

Lean on my shoulder slang coca

20 g'z on my team Villanova

Blow marijuana in the sauna

While my niggas move dope on the corner

V-12 motor, vida loca

Now your bitch trying to give me her panocha

Fat sweet roller in my trocka

And my girl called the cops cuz I choked her

Copa Cabana, thankin' Santa

For the keyboard that came wit the sampler

Turn up the Clarion, wit the stelly on

She wit me cuz I am the champion

I will kill you

I will kill you

I will kill you first

I will kill you

I will kill you first

I will kill you

I will kill you first

It's the same ol' story though

Nigga died cuz he fucked wit the wrong hoe

It's the sign of the times man

By second thank God that I'm alive man

Peace to my dead g's

Fell short trying to stack up they benjis

In the mist and the fog

Boys wanna squab

All on my dick like corn on the cob

You ain't shit but a job for one of my killer

How many niggas must die by the trigga

I'm a sipper, I'm a swerver, first degree murder

Smoke a fried stick and get wetter than a surfer

No reversing my nature, 90 pounds on my pager

I don't love you, I don't hate you but I will misplace you

In the gutter for the fuck of it

Gangsta nigga chuggin shit, candy on my mothership

And haters, they can suck a dick

And that's the goddamn deal

And that's the goddamn deal

This, this how we do this

So this what it came to, y'all the same crew

Old friends Southeast niggas claim blue

But I don't gangbang, I claim no color

She lost her son, what if that was your mother?

I sit back in my '92 blue 'Lac

And I support foundations like LULAC

I went to Alma in second ward offa Sherman

That was back when niggas jammin' to Pee-Wee Herman

Smokin' with my teacher but not the preacher

I remember fuckin Liz on the bleachers

1986, wasn't making hits

I was chasing chicks, having bad relationships

Now I fuck Asian bitches, fine Haitian bitches

Romanian, Italian some fucking bang delicious

I went from pain to riches and I remain malicious

Shoot 'em up and leave 'em laying in some strange positions