Wizard of Oz - Erk tha Jerk & Fly Commons

Yeah. Yeah. Now come follow me Down Yellow Brick Road To Wizard of Oz Hillwood Hustla Got what you need. It were plain to see Since the age of 3 One day dope fiends would be pagin' me I got crunk in the game Niggas knew my name Hillwood, the place I gained my fame. 16, in the '77 Seville Smoke gray, gold trim, Big Daddy grill Back in '86, I was choppin' bricks To think a damn Papermate got me rich I got love for the hustlaz in every hood Wit hate in your heart it'll never be good I feel blessed but confess I blow cess for my stress It's that Mex with an S on my chest. Nonetheless, I wish well for the homies With the OZ's runnin' from the police No peace, blow sweets on cold streets Dope fiends go bring a nigga mo' green. Now come follow me Down Yellow Brick Road To Wizard of Oz Hillwood Hustla Got what you need. My money triples, sippin' Ripple Livin' simple. Rollin' paper squares Out a fat ass nickel Tricks on my dick for the bricks I chop Pigs in my mix when they hit my block Used to catch a raid 'bout every 6 months Just to check up to see if I'd slip once Call it one time some rhyme 'bout this shit I can slide in my sandals But never will I slip. Undercovers hit the set, Man ya'll funny Takin' them crumbs & givin' marked money Tryin' to convict 'em, I ain't fallin' victim Fool I know your face & my boys I done hipped 'em They want me bad so mad as they burned off Fuckin' 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 ever stop. Now come follow me Down Yellow Brick Road To Wizard of Oz Hillwood Hustla Got what you need. I wrote this book 'bout the hopeless crook Livin' in the land where the coke is cooked Where hoes get took & the joke is good Where smokers hooked in a soldier's hood That Lonely Wood, where his homies stood Tryin' to change myself if I only could I'm just your Hillwood Hustla Street rhyme rustler Blowin' mo' smoke than a broke down muffler. But I'm takin' losses It ain't easy workin' jobs with no fuckin' bosses Sellin' dope is the hardest thing a man can do. Risk your life & your freedom for a buck or 2. Still I feel if you lose control, homey yousa hoe Real G's keep they life on cruise control When the police kick door & raid my crib I tell 'em Pigs are for slippers. That's not what I did. Now come follow me Down Yellow Brick Road To Wizard of Oz Hillwood Hustla Got what you need.