Lyrics
Follow my ghetto commandments
You gonna really see the way that I handle it You gon' either buck down
Or you gon' get fucked up It’s Kill or be killed
Get buck or get fucked up, nigga
1−2-3−4-5−6-7−8-9 Hit 'em one more time
Follow my Ghetto Commandments
Nigga, first of all (all)
I’m the first and last (last)
You just the first to fall (fall)
I’m just the first to blast (Blaw)
If you’re gonna curse us all, (all)
Then I’m gonna have to curse yo ass
Then leave you in the park
Underneath a bunch of dirt and grass (yeah)
I’m the only me, (me)
But I’m the first to bust (bust)
And you’re the first victim, (victim)
Quenching my thirst for blood (Ugh)
Trust me homie, you don’t want to go to work with us (us)
I’ll turn you hook to ashes
And turn your verse to dust
Tell me what’s the difference between love and lust?
Cause I love the love (love)
But I’m in love with lust (lust)
Walk up to your bitch and tell her I would love to cut
And when them devils come up Leave the crack in the crack of her butt (yeah)
Make her lay down in a back of a back of a truck (truck)
And when she come up like a squirrel
She just asking for nuts (brr)
24s on my Caddy I’m just askin' for putt (fore)
So when you come up to my trap you’re just asking for us They say thou shall not talk, (talk)
Thou shall not speak, (speak)
Thou shall bow in the presences of a G (g)
I spray mace in a bad boy’s eye
Leave his shit all puffy so Thou shall not see (see)
Thou shall not smile
Thou shall never show his teeth
I’ll paint thou art thou, thou shall repeat
Thou shall not (Thou shall not)
Bitch I said don’t talk
Shoot you in your ass and stab your feet
Now how you’re gonna walk?
I’m sick in the head, I piss in the bed
Hop up out the ocean and I leave the fisherman red
So much blood on the set, the cops hollerin' out «soo-woo»
Bitch I’m from New Orleans, you know I know that voodoo
IPod blastin', 2pac yeah hit ‘em up Chow down, spit ‘em up Black bag, get ‘em up Call the chef tonight, were having sinners for dinner
Ain’t no wireless in the hood, so I ain’t talking about Twitter
When I say
The run around, the rap around (Rap aight)
You talk, then you walk, me I’m shaftin' down (sh-sh)
See me and the pigs, we don’t fuck around (uh-uh)
That snitching in the hood, lemme' break that down (break it down)
They do theirs, we do ours, understand me?
I’m blued up, crippin' with my family
And we don’t give a fuck about the
POs, the COs, cause we know
If we goes
Then we go We do time, then parole
Now I’m back on the black at night shift
Stack on the top I’m cockin' it Back in the block and you know I’m cooping it Shoebox full of money with a sock in it And we celebrating the ghetto by popping it So no champagne or crystola
Machine guns and pistolas--
Blaw, hood shit
Like that? Game over (over)
See in my hood we crip, or dip
So follow me, follow me, follow me, follow me On some gangsta shit, ya biotch