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 niggaz 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 niggaz 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