Wizard of Oz

Yeah. Yeah.
 Now come follow me
 Down Yellow Brick Road
 To Wizard of Oz
 Hillwood Hustla
 Got what you need.
 It were plain to see
 Since the age of 3
 One day dope fiends would be pagin' me
 I got crunk in the game
 Niggas knew my name
 Hillwood, the place I gained my fame.
 16, in the '77 Seville
 Smoke gray, gold trim, Big Daddy grill
 Back in '86, I was choppin' bricks
 To think a damn Papermate got me rich
 I got love for the hustlaz in every hood
 Wit hate in your heart it'll never be good
 I feel blessed but confess
 I blow cess for my stress
 It's that Mex with an S on my chest.
 Nonetheless, I wish well for the homies
 With the OZ's runnin' from the police
 No peace, blow sweets on cold streets
 Dope fiends go bring a nigga mo' green.
 Now come follow me
 Down Yellow Brick Road
 To Wizard of Oz
 Hillwood Hustla
 Got what you need.
 My money triples, sippin' Ripple
 Livin' simple. Rollin' paper squares
 Out a fat ass nickel
 Tricks on my dick for the bricks I chop
 Pigs in my mix when they hit my block
 Used to catch a raid 'bout every 6 months
 Just to 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.
 Undercovers hit the set, Man ya'll funny
 Takin' them crumbs & givin' marked money
 Tryin' to convict 'em, I ain't fallin' victim
 Fool I know your face & my boys I done hipped 'em
 They want me bad so mad as they burned off
 Fuckin' 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 ever stop.
 Now come follow me
 Down Yellow Brick Road
 To Wizard of Oz
 Hillwood Hustla
 Got what you need.
 I wrote this book 'bout the hopeless crook
 Livin' in the land where the coke is cooked
 Where hoes get took & the joke is good
 Where smokers hooked in a soldier's hood
 That Lonely Wood, where his homies stood
 Tryin' to change myself if I only could
 I'm just your Hillwood Hustla
 Street rhyme rustler
 Blowin' mo' smoke than a broke down muffler.
 But I'm takin' losses
 It ain't easy workin' jobs with no fuckin' bosses
 Sellin' dope is the hardest thing a man can do.
 Risk your life & your freedom for a buck or 2.
 Still I feel if you lose control, homey yousa hoe
 Real G's keep they life on cruise control
 When the police kick door & raid my crib
 I tell 'em Pigs are for slippers. That's not what I did.
 Now come follow me
 Down Yellow Brick Road
 To Wizard of Oz
 Hillwood Hustla
 Got what you need.