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Never send a boy to do a man's job
You know?
I think we got away from what the fk this is all about
We forgot - how to spit
muth*fkas is makin all these crazy-ass fkin records
Stop puttin your dirty laundry out in the street, muth*fka
Follow me now
fk with me
VERSE 1
Sammy Sosa slugger, hip-hop nigg*, touch em all
Some cute, but suck em all, I say fk em all
Eat a d*ck too, soloist choose another route
G.H. form now, go and break my brother out
Henny out the bottle, nigg*, eyes low in the truck
Nothin but that good smoke, hydro in the dutch
Ain't no probably, Sauce Money, fool, got to be
Chicken eggs grits, California, call it Oscar E.
Everything I spit hot, baby boy, you're kiddin me?
Hit Flex with it, Stretch with it, then Mr. Cee
Marley Marl Sunday night, can't forget Kid Capri
Hit the turnpike where all my down in Philly be
Just passin through, son, still many guns to c*ck
30 miles from the bridge where anyone can cop
Chillin at my b*tch crib, sip plenty rum and scotch
Put it in the air for them Biggie, Pun and Pac
CHORUS
Haters frontin in the club
Real gees show us love
Bust slugs for my nigg*
(We gonna rock)
Anywhere we do shows
Come through, two hoes
Killers with new flows, playa
(We gonna rock)
Even when eyes low from hydro
Can't another brother c*ck-block my flow
(We gonna rock)
Can't stop our ones
Can't block our guns
Get your triggers
And squeeze for these Faculty
VERSE 2
Haters hate me cause I'm a big nigg* with mass appeal
They can suck a d*ck with ghonorrhea and that's for real
Ain't no secrets, muth*fkas know I might clap the steel
Be ready any given time, I'm like grab the wheel
Let the window down slow, kid just bought the farm
Two chicks in a Yugo, d*mn, it's a false alarm
Not on this joint, Sauce usually calm with the grammar
But right now I'm like baking soda, armed with a hammer
Summertime comin, now they wonder what I drive next
Represent for big , 3-4-5-X
Wide body jeeps, little dimes puff the herb slow
Know the drill, bubblegum, rubbers in the 3rd row
SUV tinted out, frontin on the hands-free
Real gees happy for me, haters like 'it can't be'
Fighter and a lover, worst enemy or your brother
Just don't forget to call me Dad too cause I'm a motherfker
CHORUS
VERSE 3
I know girls who love Sauce for the d*cko, straight Gorilla
Fatally, more than likely take at least eight to kill a-
ddicted to my flow, doggy style ain't the way I make my scrilla
Name, Name, Name, Name, those my
Hit the club half-c*cked, shoulda knew me better
Jim Star dillinger, that's under my Gucci sweater
Through the crowd thugged out, took my stance and I spit
Screamed on this one chick like, "b*tch, dance to my s**t"
Part the club with elbows, bump a nigg*, love that
nigg* read my eyes and it said 'step the fk back'
This Gorilla Hill s**t, we don't give two fks
On Gorilla Hill, kid, you tryin to do too much
Must've had a sixth sense, how he knew I clutch chrome?
Probably this a big b*tch, front and left his nuts home
fk that weak Gotti s**t, nigg*, let your shotie spit
Sauce muth*fkin, get your punk-ass body whipped
CHORUS (3x)
Welcome to Gorilla Hill