Finna do some do loc... with the Low down, on the show down, yeah
That nigga half-dead, my lil homie Quictamac, you know what I'm sayin? You better watch ya back [Lil 1/2 Dead: Verse 1]
Niggas hit me up with that wrong hood approach
Don't you know I'm Mr. H. D.?
Loc up and get your ass smoked
I'm bout to bust for you niggas and you niggets
I'm bound to get ya wizzet by my numbers and my chizzaks
If you ain't knowin'
The niggas who I bail with and stale with before the chronic smoke I be blowing (Haaaa)
Stop by the tracks to see if my hoes is hoein
Cuz I know that you know
I gots to keep my money flowing (thats right)
Like some juice I get loose with the duce
But I gots to keep my strap by my side in case I have to shoot (Ooh yeah)
Another nigga who was jealous for the simple fact that I can rap and he can't
Lil nigga pass the dank
And let me tell you what I been through
I did shit and pool licks as a kid
Before I hit the show biz
But now I'm making
CDs records and tapes and in the meantime busting freestyle and hella paid[Chorus]
On my way up
I gotta stay up, I can't go down
So fools all cruise when we throw down at the showdown
Ain't ya heard the low-down?
I hit your city like a midi and ain't leaving till its tore-down
You knowin' how it go down
I'm dumpin punks in trunks and packing puff for the slow down
Slow down, slow, slow, slow down[Quictamac: Verse 2]
Now I gots to go into my cookie jar
And grab my strap up out my shirt
Cuz I'm a super star
Its a mystery on how we fits to be but thats history
How bout we drop an ablum on the style to show the industry

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