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Şarkı Sözleri Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need It were plain to see since the age of three One day dope fiends'll be pagin' me I got crunk in the game, niggas knew my name Hillwood the place, I gain my fame Sixteen in a '77 Seville Smoke gray gold trim, big daddy grill Back in '86 I was choppin' bricks To think a damn paper made got me rich I got love for the hustlas in every hood But hate in your heart it'll never be good I feel blessed but confess, I blow sess for my stress It's that Mex with a S on my chest None the less I was real with the homies With the OZ's running from the police No peace, blow sweets on cold streets Dope fiends gon' bring a nigga more green Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need My money triple, sippin' ripple, living simple Rolling paper squares out a fat ass nickle Trick on my dick for the bricks I chop Pigs in my mix when they hit my block Used to catch a raid 'bout every six months Just a 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 Under covers hit the set man y'all funny Taking them crumbs and giving marked money Trying to convict 'em I ain't fallin' victim Fool, I know your face and my boys I done hipped 'em They want me bad so mad as they burn off Fucking 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 never stop Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need I wrote this book 'bout a hopeless crook Living in the land where the coke is cooked Where hoes get took and the joke is good Where smokers hooked and the soldiers hood That lonely wood where his homies stood Trying to change myself if I only could I'm just your Hillwood hustla street rhyme rustler Blowing more smoke than a broke down muffler But I'm taking losses It ain't easy working jobs with no fucking bosses Selling dope is the hardest thing a man can do Risking life and your freedom for a buck or two Still I feel if you loose control, homie you'se a hoe Real G's keep they life on cruise control When the police kick door and raid my crib I tell 'em pigs of the slippers, that's not what I did Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need Now come follow me down yellow brick road To easier to see Hillwood hustla, got what you need