got people I know Who got people they know, so I suggest you lay low I'm still on top of the game Still droppin' flames, still cock and aim Still at
joe ya bettah go get G.I...all my guns knee high, m-o-n-e-y thats what i re-ly.. on.. im gone! he high yup im 3high, im jus schoolin these fucks like
he's dancing on the sky above And the truth is that we'll never know Where love will flow Aim high, shoot low We gotta aim high, shoot low baby Ain'
wanna do it now they wanna try an do it but I'm telling them 'low me When I shut one eye and aim, I hit the target Ben Cook now sitting at home now tryna
em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high And you hit 'em low, hit
easy as it seems to be Hungry belly jamma busts off easily Balloon bang. POP! Hot as a bang spot in Bangkok Colder than a pimp glock Aim shot, the frame
This money is golden, low and behold, blowing holes Trench coats in Detroit summers, you gotta mean nigga Wit long guns, you gon' run nigga, run [Pharrell] And fly nigga, sky high
or get blazed up Who be the one lastin' cock the fifth and start blastin' Try me die instantly, a couple of shots is all it takes Aim slugs to your face
, fuck a beat and a rap nigga This a motherfucking movie and if you trying to stop it You gone have to load, aim and cock it for real But we too hard
, Southside We stay ballin?, you know my homies down to ride I represent the Westside with pride, Westside, we stay ballin? Now can you, picture me roamin? high in my low
leave your body in the street As I creep, up on my next mothafuckin victim Sweep him off his feet, pull the trigger, let me sick him Hit him high, hit him low
up high Get 'em up high, get 'em up high Get 'em up high, get 'em up high Get 'em up high in the sky Put 'em up high, put 'em up high Put 'em up high
ll do 'em, like nobody doin' 'em Stop, it's best that you keep it movin', you'll get shot We ain't lickin' niggaz, we ain't bustin' shots in the air No warnin' shots
aim it to the left, a little low, son, aim it to the left, a little low cuz the old iron sight fires high and to the right so aim it to the left, a little low
the riots perform While satanic man, now hangin' his dawn I swing on you fake radio personalities And boost your ratings with hypes behind casualties Fire a shot wit low
aim to trace my essence To know more than is necessary blunts your weapon My group's nova, remain unsober And serve high times wit king cobras I shoulder low
of all your bullet holes embedded in your area Bullet, bullet and in the end, who gets shot By motherfuckers making hip hop? We came here to get you high
rope Might want to see Heaven, might need a telescope A girl to restock anytime the wine cellar's low Bottle service, maybe a couple whores High ceilings