feat. Royal T, Point Blank, OG Spanish Fly, Proper Dos, Young Breed [Royal T] Hell Yeah Check this out It's motherfuckin' Royal T homie Up on this bitch Fuckin' vatos yappin' homie We don't fuck around at Low Pro [Verse 1] - Never fucking around You wanna be known the way I be puttin' them down Bucking them down fool, the way I be getting around Hard on the city, be fellin' your pity, just hopin' there's no tomorrow When ever you mom's on my mind fool, you know the time The way I murder and slaughter you father, your mother, and your daughter When ever you comin', you better be gunnin', before I make my motherfuckin' ?? comin' Gang bangin' in the 6-1-9, Low Pro keep it real when we on the grind I'm stuck up fool, I don't hear the hater's talkin' I focus on chips, that bullshit keep walkin' Got at your ex, cause baby doll keep jockin' Got her, sprong on the dick, now that bitch is night stalkin' Tryna be my baby's mama, but chill baby doll I already got one, that drive's me up the fuckin' wall I'm just tryna ball, and be single and free Now watch me hope a '63 from L.A. to S.D. Chorus 2x: It's so ruff, so tuff, the shit we been trough (What!!) A Whole lotta hatin', be still continue (Biatch) Making dope track's that still offend you (What!!) Either we gonna hit the street's or we gonn hit'chu (Oooooo) [Verse 2] I'm old school, no 20's, I roll 13's S.D., Jersey, it's about time you heard me Slow motion through the city Needy with the greedy What'chu know about the Low Profile committee Scopin' chica's with the tight clothes Always spittin' tight flows, hit'chu with oh, five holes What'chu ready to die holmes? Watch me get my shine on, watch me get my ride on If you got beef, homie, we gonna collide homles True gangster shit, get on my hit Now trip if you wanna trip But I spit flows, equivalent, 2 slug's of the clip Don't slit, we got it on lock, keep da block from burnin' down Platinum sounds, made enough cash, to put you underground Hell yeah, got that heat, 17 shot's across the street I made that money, and like pussy, I'm gonna kill it Ese's don't play, we roll mad ?? Test the ball's on my homie, you'll be dead in the street of Southeast Chorus 2x [Verse 3] - Lil' Rob I wake up in the morning, can't wait for night time You said you got a style but it's not quite like mine You said your fucking real? then let's keep it real You wanna be like me cause I got the rap appeal You little leva, every time I hear your name I laugh cause I know you, claimin' that your somethin' You ain't nothin', your bluffin', so ruff, so tuff When your on the mic, put it down, like your head When I saw you at the mall that night Every thing you say is dumb, crack my cranium I'll crack you cranium, in the center, of Qualcomm Stadium With everybody watchin', "You can only witness the thing's you see Not the things you hear" remember that, so stop talking mocking what your jocking, next time you see me puto, keep on walkin' Don't be stopping or we'll be boxing You hate me, but you play me, how else would you hear this Checkin' out my lyrics cause you fear this you can't get near this Chorus 2x
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