1st Thing First

Y'all niggas better recognize

First you better recognize G.P.

Yeah yeah, ain't nuthin but attitude up in here, knahmean

So peep next tight things baby



Chorus:

1st things first, you better recognize G.P.

Fuck all that other bullshit basically

Don't really care who you be with nigga

We comin through, keep your finger on the trigger



[June Luva]

I keep creatin, producin flavor

That I gave ya like sugar from a neighbor

Save ya self cause I can't hold it back any longer

Feelings of hate is gettin stronger

Somethin in my mind's takin over me

Could it be the grim reaper controllin me

I don't know but I'm sick of this shit

One minute a nigga's insane the next legit

But check it, I'm on this mission like the one David Banner

And through my travels I erupt in such a manner

Of explosion, some say that I'm the chosen

Wisdom that I speak leavin niggas stiff frozen

So gimme mines black, you know what I'm askin for

The utmost respect or I'm gonna tap that jaw

Better yet I'm tired of playin mister nice guy

Take the two piece combo to your eye

Uppercut, uppercut as I'm smashin

Consecutive body blows, ribs I'm crashin

The next time you wanna flex better do it in a different direction

Cause all this is my section



[Down Low Recka]

I'ma get mine, as long as I do instead of try

Don't sweat I punk, go suck a dick and die

It's business, order number one catch wreck

Second I'ma go state to state (third) make connects

Next when I get there it'll be urgent

To stain your clean style washed in detergent

Don't fight, I observe the street life is trife

Bite in a car gettin your guts scarred

No food, your thoughts go through hunger, now I'm wrong for

Bringin the thunder in a song, it makes you wonder

All of a sudden I can taste it

Meanwhile wax was wasted Shaolin replaced it, face it

Hittin the switches, fixin the glitches

Been through a lot from stitches to playin in ditches

Downin French bitches

Payin the cost and bein the boss and

Slingin boulders as a soldier, enforced extortion

What the fuck made a nigga tell me I don't know

I observe, all enfold to be a pro

I'm iller, strivin to be a top biller

Smokin the killer, and livin the high life like Miller



[Pop The Brown Hornet]

I play the host at your funeral

You been the victim of deadly lyrics

As I puff a bone and reminisce about the bullshit you said

Reach down and out your head, you been beheaded

On top of that your tongue's been shredded

No longer will your mouth get that ass in trouble

Resemblin Nicole Simpson, layin in a blood puddle

You shoulda knew what you was gettin yourself into

Fuckin with a nigga from my crew but it's too late

All your loved ones was at your wake

Wishin you hadn't of done it

The odds was one in a hundred

But still you wanted to test your skill

Now you're layin in the box all packed with rhymes that kill

Ain't no games here, it's strictly wear and tear

It's the rapper of the year makin love to your ear

I heard you smacked your girl in the shower

Cause you heard her singin my song, can we all get along

Guess not, you're mad cause I got her hotter than you ever got her

Off a nigga voice, she knew a nigga choice and all that

Kid the fly rapper, wet up with crack

Got the bitch comin back for more

Of the uncut raw hardcore she never had

Now I got her callin me dad

Nigga, unh, what, hear you buck, come on, unh, come on, unh



Chorus