Low Down - Lil' 1/2 Dead

Yeah!

Finna do some do loc… with the Low down, on the show down, yeah

That nigga half-dead, my lil homie Quictamac, you know what I’m sayin?

You better watch ya back

Niggas hit me up with that wrong hood approach

Don’t you know I’m Mr. H. D.

Loc up and get your ass smoked

I’m bout to bust for you niggas and you niggets

I’m bound to get ya wizzet by my numbers and my chizzaks

If you ain’t knowin'

The niggas who I bail with and stale with before the chronic smoke I be blowing

(Haaaa)

Stop by the tracks to see if my hoes is hoein

Cuz I know that you know

I gots to keep my money flowing (thats right)

Like some juice I get loose with the duce

But I gots to keep my strap by my side in case I have to shoot (Ooh yeah)

Another nigga who was jealous for the simple fact that I can rap and he can’t

Lil nigga pass the dank

And let me tell you what I been through

I did shit and pool licks as a kid

Before I hit the show biz

But now I’m making

CDs records and tapes and in the meantime busting freestyle and hella paid

On my way up

I gotta stay up, I can’t go down

So fools all cruise when we throw down at the showdown

Ain’t ya heard the low-down?

I hit your city like a midi and ain’t leaving till its tore-down

You knowin' how it go down

I’m dumpin punks in trunks and packing puff for the slow down

Slow down, slow, slow, slow down

Now I gots to go into my cookie jar

And grab my strap up out my shirt

Cuz I’m a super star

Its a mystery on how we fits to be but thats history

How bout we drop an ablum on the style to show the industry