Lyrics:

I was rollin' through the hood one dayThought shit den calmed down, \'Gang-bangin'\' den played out by the years since I den been aroundAin't talked to nobody from my blockCause all my niggas is locked upAnd it's been all ever I seen wit a guillotineSo I was in the \'Cut Supreme\'Fifteen grams and some \'greenodine\'Ain't seen a block nigga sinceBut 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 sevenBrotha Lynch Hung, but the bitches call me KevinThey 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 alibisAnd the meat they ate from them drive-bys ain't minecause mine's a supe' desguiseAs I swoop the skies high off that buddhatah mixed the cusche and the purple hairsAnd 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 plotUnlock 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 trunkAnd 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 payThe gaungay got me high now I'm paranoida den these boochesFilthy rich, I'mma take the lootAnd the dig a ditch, tell your neighborhood bitchto miss me with that hoe shitCause I'mma get this nigga when he surfaceAnd that's on everything I love, I gots to split his wigOpened up the little blue packet, stung him like a yellow-jacketRib 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 shitI know I said I do it alone in the pass, everybody in the neighborhood knewsomebody betta jack his ass up like a six-four impalaYou floatin' on dirty waterPack your shit up nigga like it's on only you and your ?woda-goda?Track your ass down, smoke your last pound[Chorus 2Xs](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 ladyshe was comin at unreal, hit the blunt and now she's animatedMotivate through you like a foggy mistYou can hold me in your chest-plate like that nitro hitFirst Degree told me if the weed can tossIt'll talk some shit, gotta get me an underspotmake me a Hemp Museum like B-LegitI'm tryin to bump my head on the moonLive so high up in the mountains eatin' snake meat, fried raccoons With a attitude I need food to eat upsmoke a fat blunt on my couch with my feet upTop notch program, DOS mode indo 95 upgrade siccmade Stay paid til the day on the ground, I'mma lay, I'mma stay loaded upIn my trunk I got the blow you up and it'll blow you upAnd the count goes[Brotha Lynch Hung sends out shout outs til the end]

Brotha Lynch Hung One Mo Pound