Brotha Lynch Hung - One Mo Pound lyrics

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
(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 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"
(rotweilers)
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

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)

(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