The Hill D. Lynch

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[Verse 1:]

Little bugsy was a another average kid from the block
Raised by his mom, he was never given a lot
But something came along, finally give him a shot
But he threw it in the trash just to peddle some rock
Always cocking back at the pen of a drop
King of the streets son,'
He'd never get caught
Had a bright future playing them sports
Said fuck the draft homie
Now he's killing for sport
Now hes packing heat
Smoking L's on the porch
Runs three blocks, including the court
Felt hard as hell when they gave him the Glock
Said to hit up the block
Couldn't wait till it get shot
They got a homie who snitched, now they ready to move
Guess now you really got, something to prove
Getting through was never easy to do
Always start shit growing up with you

[Hook]