paroles de chanson One Mo Pound - Brotha Lynch Hung
I
was
rollin'
through
the
hood
one
day
Thought
shit
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
it's
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
nigga
since
But
now
I'm
off
that
kill
green
(Mothtafuckas
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
bitches
call
me
kevin
They
try
to
make
me
think
they
close
to
me,
but
neb'in
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
mine's
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"
And
heat
the
heat
cause
it's
the
"nine-neb'in"
['97]
And
it's
hot
den
a
mothafucka
(All
day
everyday)
i'mma
stay
loaded
up,
"krondike"
in
the
trunk
And
a
pound
full
of
james
brown
Cause
I
gots
to
get
loaded
so
hold
up
soldier
The
count
goes
(One
more
pound
of
smoke
and
it's
guaranteed
to
make
a
mothafucka
choke)
(Ain't
got
no
down
ass
bitch
at
my
side
But
I
got
some
bomb
ass
weed
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,
i'mma
take
the
loot
And
the
dig
a
ditch,
tell
your
neighborhood
bitch
To
miss
me
with
that
hoe
shit
Cause
i'mma
get
this
nigga
when
he
surface
And
that's
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
shit
I
know
I
said
I
do
it
alone
in
the
pass,
everybody
in
the
neighborhood
knew
Somebody
betta
jack
his
ass
up
like
a
six-four
impala
You
floatin'
on
dirty
water
Pack
your
shit
up
nigga
like
it's
on
only
you
and
your?
woda-goda?
Track
your
ass
down,
smoke
your
last
pound
(If
you
smell
any
smoke
it's
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
weed
can
toss
It'll
talk
some
shit,
gotta
get
me
an
underspot
Make
me
a
hemp
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,
i'mma
lay,
i'mma
stay
loaded
up
In
my
trunk
I
got
the
blow
you
up
and
it'll
blow
you
up
And
the
count
goes
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