One Mo Pound

Brotha Lynch Hung

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



[Chorus: 2Xs]



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