Please Flow

(*talking*) Yeah-yeah uh, this your nig' C. Wig ya dig Getting real-real ghetto, gutter in here for ya The mic one time, I got this right flow You gonna feel it, check me out one time two times [Chris Ward] A lot of hoe niggas speaking war, but really mean peace Fuck hibernation, cause I am a mean beast I love the South, I was raised on these mean streets I run through dirty turf, and still I come out with clean cleats Look you looking for some work, in the green sheets Fuck that, I'll get you some work to stack some green sheets As far as the hustle, you don't know how much time I spent On the grind, trying to structure and design my print I'm the one behind the chrome grill, behind the Bent' And you could see the pinky ring on the wheel, behind the tint Along with that the bracelet, and the charm got freeze A lot of niggas play hard, but softer than hot cheese I'm C. Wigga, or C. Weez The same one that told y'all, he's fresher than Free Breeze I'm still most wanted, still most hated My mail comes heavily steadily, whether or not it's post dated And cause I'm out on bond, they say I'm a mobster But I ain't looking for trouble, I'm just looking to prosper You might catch me eating chicken and shrimp, fetticini pasta M.O.B.'s my tree, and S.U.C. is the roster I stay's on my grizzlet, because I got's to One day I'm Dickie suited, the next day it's Las Costa But if you'd like, you could come to my la casa Then you'll understand why, I walk and talk with a posture That let's you know, that I'm one of the freshest But if you play with me, I'll leave you and your crew stretched out on stretchers nigga See you, ain't gotta like my kind Matter of fact, you ain't gotta like my rhymes That's why everytime I spit it, I make sure you feel it And let these haters know, I got a trifling mind bitch (*talking*) Yeah, that's real spit Like 40 Water would say, say I grind cause I gotta grind, shine cause I gotta shine I'm the reason that they wearing shades, cause I got em blind - 2x [Kyleon] I speak the truth, like I'm rapping at the King James You know what that mean mayn, Kyleon the king mayn You just a baby boy, Kyleon Ving Rhames I'm H-Town's rookie of the year, call me King James Lebron, Kyleon's the one motherfucker Diamonds down, Kyleon shine like the sun motherfucker The booth Jesus, God's son motherfucker Got that blow flow, and got it by the ton motherfucker Not Juvenile, but Kyle stick to the G-code My shit is fo' hundred degrees, damn he thoed I speak heat, like my pen got gonerhea My sheet's my freak, so you geeks don't wanna see her Dead End, that's the block that I'm repping Act like you got plex, and I'ma cock that weapon And make a nigga get to stepping, like Martin Fuck up they face, and have it looking like Martin