One Mo Pound-Brotha Lynch Hung

One Mo Pound - Brotha Lynch Hung I was rollin through the hood one day Thought sh*t den calmed down, Gang-bangin den played out by the years since I den been around Ain't talked to nobody from my block Cause all my niggas is locked up And its been all ever I seen wit a guillotine So I was in the cut supreme Fifteen grams and some greenodine Ain't seen a block ni**a since But now I'm off that kill green (mothta*****as ain't got no love for me) (niggas wanna put some slugs in me) So I'm double 0 seven, murder redrum wit my three fifty seven Brotha lynch hung, but the *****es call me kevin They try to make me think they close to me, but nebin [never] You know I gots to (say high) stay high, keep recipts for alibis And the meat they ate from them drive-bys ain't mine Cause mines a supe desguise As I swoop the skies high off that buddha Tah mixed the cusche and the purple hairs And it got me high (now I'm rollin on the river) Labeled mr. fedex (cause them bodies I deliver) Got to get to my next plot Unlock the freezer get the meat for the rocks [rotweilers] And heat the heat cause its the nine-nebin [97] And its hot den a motha*****a (all day everyday) imma stay loaded up, krondike in the trunk And a pound full of james brown Cause I gots to get loaded so hold up soldier [chorus: 2xs] The count goes (one more pound of smoke and its guaranteed to make a motha*****a choke) (ain't got no down a** ***** at my side But I got some bomb a** w**d in my ride) Nothin but notches, booches Fill my pockets, hit em up everyday, gotta have my pay The gaungay got me high now I'm paranoida den these booches Filthy rich, imma take the loot And the dig a ditch, tell your neighborhood ***** To miss me with that hoe sh*t Cause imma get this ni**a when he surface And thats on everything I love, I gots to split his wig Opened up the little blue packet, stung him like a yellow-jacket Rib cage heavily padded, hit him with the automatic shells Send him to hell express from his mailing address We got his name, for sho, then we went to the house and did that sh*t I know I said I do it alone in the pass, everybody in the neighborhood knew Somebody betta jack his a** up like a six-four impala You floatin on dirty water Pack your sh*t up ni**a like its on only you and your ? woda-goda? Track your a** down, smoke your last pound [chorus 2xs] (if you smell any smoke its just me and my homies gettin blown) And I was late gettin home, intoxicated Fight with my old lady She was comin at unreal, hit the blunt and now she's animated Motivate through you like a foggy mist You can hold me in your chest-plate like that nitro hit First degree told me if the w**d can toss Itll talk some sh*t, gotta get me an underspot Make me a h**p museum like b-legit I'm tryin to bump my head on the moon Live so high up in the mountains eatin snake meat, fried raccoons With a attitude I need food to eat up Smoke a fat blunt on my couch with my feet up Top notch program, dos mode indo 95 upgrade siccmade Stay paid til the day on the ground, imma lay, imma stay loaded up In my trunk I got the blow you up and itll blow you up And the count goes [brotha lynch hung sends out shout outs til the end]