Lobo Wanna Raise

Uh, uhh pick up my voice a little bit

Just a little man, just a little bit man, yo just a little bit dog, just a little bit, yeah

Flippin ex-ho trippin... ohhh shit

Flippin, ex-ho trippin

Got them new kicks from that boy scottie pippin

livin skin off the chicken

And you hos already know what im sippin

Still a big dippa'

Still a straight killa'

Still unloadin' off that eighteen wheela'

Nobody betta', never ever ever

Glass on my 'lac like that girl cinderella

Hand on my 'retta

Surf on the netta

Lookin for a shredder in a polo sweater

Beef gets settled

Straight from the ghetto

Say you comin back homeboy i keep espedo

Hillwood tx, not many mexicans

'cept the one that got them two six hundred engines

Don't ask questions, don't give answers

Sittin at the bar cause im not a good dancer

Its the day after, pray for me pastor

Mix a little purple with the strawberry shasta

Or the cream soda

Rollin in the cobra

Motherfuckin thug born the fifth of october

Servin that coka

Its la vida loca

Catch her at the club ima slap her then choke her

Still a baller haulin, bought and i shot it

Call it what you call it, more brown bags than sonic

Man im abra cadabra

Struggler not a straggler

Bubbler not a babbler

Hustler not a hastler

Never been a bachelor

Always been married

To these fuckin streets

Stayin long 'till im buried

Now ima swang, ima swerve

I think im seein blurrs

Wit my boy serge in the trunk watchin spurs

Wit my persian princess

On twenty-two inches

When i sleep she say that my trigger finger twitches

Im superstitious and i believe in ghosts

So many hos wanna be with the 'los

Im tweakin on the motherfuckin weed that i smoke

Goin ninety-five on my motherfuckin boat

Ridin them waves

Chunkin up my tres

Lobo call me up talkin 'bout he want a raise

Crime sho pays

Don't do braids, keep a low cut like that boy norman bates

Rattles and it shakes, jumps and it brakes

White candy paint look like the pearly gates

Sellin my tapes in fifty different states

Fuck the radio cause you motherfuckers hate

But it's all good, im from a small hood

Tie his bitch ass up and bring him back to hillwood

In my levi's sag down to my lugs

With a t-shirt that say "breeders not drugs"

Be one of us, live in the rush

Just put diamonds on my baby's hairbrush

I fuck with the plus and not the minus

And i might just let my black nine bust

And it goes like...

Uhh ya'll ain't ready for this

Nuh-uh ya'll ain't ready for this

Uh ya'll ain't ready for this, come on, you no ready for this

I tightin up my laces on my brand new stacy's

Hug and kiss my babies then call up my crazies

Tryin to make it through another day no easy

Motherfuckers hate cause im on top like zz

Young niggas think we out here playin fuckin games

'til one niggas lookin at the other niggas brains

Laughed and you giggled bout the words that i riddled

Now we step in the coffin rock hard and dick shriveled

Hoppin along in my '54 bomb

Yes i hate pigs like them boys of islam

Gone in the wind, not long 'till the end

No more talk with my glock in the palm of my hand

Alize at the mandolay

Got a call they shot two, the rest ran away

That's how the shit gets done in the deep south

Im in vegas watchin vargas knock a bitch out

Ice glisten ballitician hold it down and dirty

Peace to all my fuckin raza up in alberquerque

Sign a bonus with ???? now my house is roomy

Niggas wanna do me but you bitches nothin to me

Understand my killers love makin haters bloody

Actin buddy buddy softer than silly putty

Hang by a rope and gut 'em like you do a goat

And on his neck write this on a fuckin note

Bitch pissin in the wind what began has begun

Blast my heat once sweep 'em up then be done

Im one in a catrillion, motherfuckin million

Layin in my bed gettin head from a brazilian

Mama still bitchin

Gangstas still listen

Im blowin weed with them boys from new edition

Man im ballin

Never ever fallin

Skip to my lou my motherfuckin darlin

And it goes like...

Uh ya'll ain't ready for this

Ya'll ain't ready for this

Uh ya'll ain't ready for this

Nuh-uh ya'll ain't ready for this, listen

So if you see 'em see 'em, go head tell 'em tell 'em

Only music is my dope and i sell 'em sell 'em

Or i slang 'em slang 'em

It don't matter what you call it

My shit so hot up in the hood you better record it

Now some of ya'll niggas think my heart is so warm

Cold motherfucker me, you don't want none motherfucker

Have your whole crew ducka ducka

It happens when i pull out my nine milla placa

Nigga watcha, be careful cause my blood gets hotter

Chunk that bullit out my gun than stoppa

Remember when i used to be a mic wrecker

But by the grace of your way i come to be the mic checker

Now it's betta, now that im makin that chedda

My belly stay full and my throat was never wetta

Every, meet me at the back stage letta

Cause when we goin' go down to jamaica

That's what im talkin about

See ya later

Uh ya'll ain't ready for this

That was kinda tight wasn't it (yeahhhh)

Alright

Eh he he yeah right