[Chorus 2X's]   Now come follow me   Down yellow brick road   To easier to see   Hillwood Hustla   Got what you need      [Verse 1]   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   16 in a 7-7 Seville   Smoke grey gold trim big daddy grill   Back in '86 I was choppin bricks   To think a damn paper made ??? 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   Its that Mex with a S on my chest   None the less I was real with the homies   With the O-Z's running from the police   No peace blow sweets on cold streets   Dope fiends gon bring a nigga more green (echoes)      [Chorus 2X's]      [Verse 2]   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 id 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 yall funny   Taking them crumbs and giving marked money   Trying to convict em I aint fallin victim   Fool I know your face and my boys I done hipped em   They want me bad so mad as they burn off   F**king 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 dont never stop (echoes)      [Chorus 2X's]      [Verse 3]   I wrote this book bout a hopeless crook   Living in the land where the coke is cooked   Where hoes get took and the choke is good   Where smokers hooked and the soldiers hood   That lonely Wood where his homies stood   Trying to change myself if I only could   Im just your Hillwood Hustla street rhyme rustler   Blowing more smoke than a broke down muffler   But I'm taking losses   It aint easy working jobs with no f**king 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 youse a ho   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 thats not what I did (echoes)      [Chorus 2X's]