(*talking*)
Dear Lord, this is your boy Bam
Can't nobody do what you done done God
One of the ghetto graduates, three men in here
Ready to deliver, number one, all they internal sins
On pen and paper, and right now, they fin to let
You know how it is, it's a chance, God bless us
Allah, you number one
[Wood]
Well it's my return, and I've been gone for too long
I'm in a different state of mind, yeah Wood is in the zone
Demonstrate the arsenal head shots, with red dots and wet spots
Soaking shirts up, till my churf up with red spots
Bag of leaves and the chronic trees, South Texas ki's and let you weed
They jacking leaves for cake and cheese, I make the G's and you may believe
Shouldn't wish up on your clover leaf, wishing up on a star
Losing my memory behind a bar, all I want is drank out the jar
Locked in the Penn talking back to the guards, shooting the kite
Taking the back of my broad, pulling a candy Lac in my yard
Strapped up talking back to you boys, I'm armed alarmed and informed
And I'm hollin' on my own, for the rings to the pawn
Gotta pass up the coin, to the Tre where I was born
Wood, and I'm hot as a fire place, in a eskimo's house
You get the, you get the, you get the splinters in your mouth
Quinbrown my hardest hood close to downtown, round for round
And pound for pound, I'm making you bitch boys bow down
Dear Lord, this is your boy Bam
Can't nobody do what you done done God
One of the ghetto graduates, three men in here
Ready to deliver, number one, all they internal sins
On pen and paper, and right now, they fin to let
You know how it is, it's a chance, God bless us
Allah, you number one
[Wood]
Well it's my return, and I've been gone for too long
I'm in a different state of mind, yeah Wood is in the zone
Demonstrate the arsenal head shots, with red dots and wet spots
Soaking shirts up, till my churf up with red spots
Bag of leaves and the chronic trees, South Texas ki's and let you weed
They jacking leaves for cake and cheese, I make the G's and you may believe
Shouldn't wish up on your clover leaf, wishing up on a star
Losing my memory behind a bar, all I want is drank out the jar
Locked in the Penn talking back to the guards, shooting the kite
Taking the back of my broad, pulling a candy Lac in my yard
Strapped up talking back to you boys, I'm armed alarmed and informed
And I'm hollin' on my own, for the rings to the pawn
Gotta pass up the coin, to the Tre where I was born
Wood, and I'm hot as a fire place, in a eskimo's house
You get the, you get the, you get the splinters in your mouth
Quinbrown my hardest hood close to downtown, round for round
And pound for pound, I'm making you bitch boys bow down
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