It's woodie wood from the a-
Where the crack bags po tent
For every new batch could
And I creep in a 69 lark for dark
Parking up the block on rallies
Swinging sideways the highways
up there aiming for brains
Shits gone strange but i was
So nothings really changed
Homies gone or doing time
But we some norte sidin ridin 90 bumping
Waking out the windows spitting
I seen gold shot duce duces all it takes
Still rattled up these crazy
But I prefer to talk a tray
So I can hit them with a gunshot
Living in the skirts of the
It's the reason why I'M cocking back
and blowing out your spleen
It could mean that your all about your
green and copping see notes
Or rolling on the triple gold's where and folks
Might have you flossing with
Or hit the county you a bitch
or a snitch your getting rolled up
So I'M a solidified yoc swinga a malt
liqueur drinker a fuckin deep thinker
Until I hit the grave better
Cause I ain't ever been out shooting
blanks hauling with actor
Prepare to scrap down as I
Of a hundred thousand people
fifty thousand living bound
Back in 92 only a few busters
95 realized the yoc ain't joking
that's all good but why'd you
97 fuck it i ain't even trippin load the
homies that I got even more
And keep dipping let the record state
In 98 shall I die write the words in my
obituary for the north side I serve
Living in the skirts of the
And imma hit a bullseye cause its like that
Woodies only hated for the
Fuck rapping about that bullshit been
through too much to fake it
Living life strapped put a
Woodies only hated for the
Fuck rapping about that bullshit been
through too much to fake it
Living in the skirts of the
4.6
