SPM - Wizard Of Oz lyrics

[Chorus 2X's] Now come follow me Down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood Hustla Got what you need [Verse 1] It were plain to see Since the age of three One day dope fiends'll be pagin me I got crunk in the game n***as knew my name Hillwood the place I gain my fame 16 in a 7-7 Seville Smoke grey gold trim big daddy grill Back in '86 I was choppin bricks To think a damn papermate made me rich I got love for the hustlas in every hood But hate in your heart it'll never be good I feel blessed but confess I blow sess for my stress Its that Mex with a S on my chest None the less I was real with the homies With the O-Z's running from the police No peace blow sweets on cold streets Dope fiends gon bring a n***a more green (echoes) [Chorus 2X's] [Verse 2] My money triple sippin ripple living simple Rolling paper squares out a fat a** nickle Trick on my dick for the bricks I chop Pigs in my mix when they hit my block Used to catch a raid bout every six months Just a check up to see if id slip once Call it one time some rhyme bout this sh** I can slide in my sandals but never will I slip Undercovers hit the set man y'all funny Taking them crumbs and giving marked money Trying to convict em I ain't fallin victim Fool I know your face and my boys I done hipped em They want me bad so mad as they burn off f**ing with them hoes now my blunt done turned off No other way just another day on the spot If you play then you pay it don't never stop (echoes) [Chorus 2X's] [Verse 3] I wrote this book bout a hopeless crook Living in the land where the coke is cooked Where hoes get took and the choke is good Where smokers hooked and the soldiers hood That lonely Wood where his homies stood Trying to change myself if I only could I'm just your Hillwood Hustla street rhyme rustler Blowing more smoke than a broke down muffler But I'm taking losses It ain't easy working jobs with no f**ing bosses Selling dope is the hardest thing a man can do Risking life and your freedom for a buck or two Still I feel if you loose control homie youse a ho Real g's keep they life on cruise control When the police kick door and raid my crib I tell em pigs of the slippers that's not what I did (echoes) [Chorus 2X's]