Lyrics
Where you think he got it from?
P-L-O (P-L-O)
Lights be so melodic at the P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
They'll be a buncha killers at the P-L-O (P-L-O)
Where you think he got it from?
P-L-O (P-L-O)
Come and dig your pockets at the P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
Raised me from the slums now I'm C-E-O
You heard P-L-O style, nigga, I'm back again
They told you G Bully be well in love with them Africans
Heffner back on that shit, I guess they mad again
Get crazy on the records, I tear 'em down when I'm battlin'
Come and off your re-up
Hit the strip, I drop a bomb in thirty minutes like I'm North Korea
It take a lot to beat us, you better join us
Still keep lookouts on the corner, they be on us
I still rep the P-L-O like I'm everythang
Crazy like a terrorist, hella, pitch it, then I'ma clap
Pull the trigga on any jigga, you fade to black
This a liberation, they tried to take it, we took it back
That's where the trappers go and post the clocks
Bacon, egg, and cheese, then it's off to get this gaup
Mr. Barker gray and he ain't never gon' stop
Seen it from the bottom, everything look like the top
I swear to God, Park Hill made 'em, broke the mold
Solidify 'em, niggas frontin' on him, he reload
It's all about the work, money, never 'bout them hoes
Frontin' on a Staten, get your fuckery exposed
Frontin' on a Staten, we dismantle niggas, facts
Fuck them niggas rattin', we should kill a couple stacks
My people, are you with me? Where the fuck my hittas at?
Park Hill lives on, still I lay 'em flat
Where you think he got it from?
P-L-O (P-L-O)
Lights be so melodic at the P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
P-L-O (P-L-O)
They'll be a buncha killers at the P-L-O (P-L-O)
Where you think he got it from?
P-L-O (P-L-O)
Come and dig your pockets at the P-L-O (P-L-O)