Give It To `Em Raw/I Got The Hook-Up snd

Talking:<br>Whats that big baby?<br>You know whats sound dog<br>They gon` like this here, ya heard me?<br>They go like, you know what I`m sayin`?<br>Fuck `em<br><br>Chorus:<br>From what I was told niggaz say I`m a hit No Limit like Pac,<br>Hit Death Row and make some mon`, now dance hoe<br>And blow, up like the world trade<br>And be protected by No Limit tanks, soldiers with K`s and hand grenades<br><br>Could you recall a soulja that used to be crawlin`<br>Now I`m ballin`, don`t plan on fallin`<br>For the world<br>Left the furl in the dope man, on the set<br>Cause I got plans bigger then the desire projects<br>I run with steel object toes, niggaz that smoke coke<br>And watch `em in they back scopin`<br>Outta all soldier haters<br>Quick Draw McGraw niggaz see ya later<br>Cradle to the grave ya<br>Ya daddy made ya?<br>Let`s see if he can be ya savior<br>When I cave ya chest in with me murder weapon<br>They can`t find out Smith and Wesson<br>Only glocks and street machines with infer beams<br>You know what I mean<br>Fully automatic things light up the scene<br>And break ham like Carl Lewis<br>Nothin but gun smoke is all ya smell<br>Niggaz lying dead on bullets and shells<br>My people dwells to Uptown<br>Where the shit goes down<br>Shot callers and big ballers, mothers know<br>And do-do brown, Beats By The Pound, somethin` you could smoke too<br>Flavors like ? red, beans, rice, gumbo the stew<br>My little one said its all on you, and Choppers City<br>My ? clique clanin` posse<br>Ain`t no stoppin`, my committe<br>Shits bigger then me, Nino Black<br>And a can of Trinity, ya feelin` me?<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Incarceration had me real impatient<br>I was local until ya heard me on Down South Hustlers, it was nation<br>That told this shit is my creation<br>Is it real, yeah, cause niggaz wearin` soldier rags and shit<br>Keepin` it twreal<br>My reservation is to make some mills<br>And stay independent<br>Stay wearin` girbauds and polos, and soldier Reebok tennis<br>Crushed out tank on my neck<br>Protect my chest like a vest<br>No more coke, no more dope, just alcohol and sess<br>Respect my rhyme because my mind is filled up with anger<br>Sound like I got a glock for it<br>With black ? bullets in the chamber<br>Wait to be released and decease fake ass MC`s<br>Niggaz best freeze cause I squeeze gats and burn to the third degree<br>Make you wonder will you ever breathe again like Toni Braxton<br>Leave ya skull fraction, about more action than Jackson<br>So you better ask somebody that know me<br>If they real they gon` tell ya whats real<br>If they fake they gon` soldier hate<br>I can freestyle about it without makin` no mistake, ask Trey<br>That`s my compadre, a nigga that I ride with, all day<br>Got it cocked<br>And in the trunk bumpin` nothin` but the Beats By The Pound funk<br>Pull that skunk out, the windows fogged up<br>And the system all the way pumped<br>Everything we drop be fire, don`t nothin` be bunk<br><br>Chorus<br><br>I was a weed fiend, dope fiend and coke fiend with low key<br>And I was on the cumma move,<br>When you and LV used to rock the club 49<br>Back in 93<br>Hoe was givin` me love<br>Niggaz givin` me daps and hugs<br>Soldiers respect soldiers, and soldiers respect thugs<br>Thugs gotta respect soldiers, if they don`t want they life to be over<br>Brought to a closin`<br>Ain`t nothin` changed but the name<br>When ya say soldier<br>Mean magnolia<br>Ya got that?<br>And me keep me glock, for they cocked back<br>Hoes jock that, when a nigga be all the way real<br>Only thing they want is the dough, dick appeal<br>But I don`t fuck around no more<br>And only saw me like that you little clown ass hoe<br>If my flow was a gun, bitch you would run