(feat. Rob Blow)



[Intro:]



Rob Blow... gonna let you niggaz know...

about alot of thingz, and it's on



[Chorus]



I'm about to tell you bout alot of thingz

Rob Blow's gonna tell you bout alot of thingz

I'm about to tell you bout alot of thingz

Rob Blow's gonna tell you bout alotz of thingz



[Verse One:]



I want everyone to recognize

the suprise, sunrise, bout ta die

They had to take a break, and escape

those who like to take a little peek at me

I mean the way I speak, I don't cheat but I teach

Every kind of lesson, you could imagine

True young brotha I don't be braggin about the jackin

man I'm not lyin

You gotta catch me on the night, when I be fryin

you can ask the Ave. for the Fulton Street mob

There's no time for fun, I just do my job

Jackin people equal to the pattened people sequels

Rob Blow's gonna tell you bout alot of thingz

I remember one day, nigga tried to take my ring

With no strings attached, it was a grudge match

battle of the tough guys took place

Five-O came, and it turned into a race

Runnin block for block, droppin rocks

I looked at the other nigga, he got shot

and I got away, straight headin for the park

Stayed and kept quiet, till it got dark

40 oz. -- that was on my mind

Bad luck though, I forgot to grind

Now they got a place to trace for the base that I dropped

A dope fiend got mopped by a cop

they thought it was his mane

Cause he was sittin there with my dope in his hand

can't you understand?  My partner's little fucked off

but I'm still the boss

Callin shots, makin plots on any MC

Who even take a chance to try me

Yeah.  I was just walikin through mindin my own

In some park, some niggaz was sparked in the dark

They caught me slippin, I can't lie

one hit me in the eye.  I stood there, I'm not about to run

but there was three of them, and one had a gun

Now I can't fight back without my Mac

I couldn't attack, because the punk was packed

I'm jacked... for the first time

I wasn't the one who invented the crime

So in this rhyme, I'm bout to let you know

them niggaz tried to jump Rob Blow

Now I gotta go back to the Moe, where I belong

J-stone is on.  Get two tone

and do the routine, J killa, B house from the Avenue crew

Eightball wassup?  Can't you hear me man?

Go get the gat, and take the 40 out your hand

I love all my niggaz, I could never be a traitor

Illyad, as a fact, like my nigga Dark Raider

In a different place, but I still catch a case

I caught a case before, I'll catch one more

That's when little niggaz gonna hit the floor

they started the war, with a Fillmoe nigga

and I'm mean, I'll throw they ass in the guillotine

mercy mercy mercy, that is what they gonna be sayin

Like red so be dead instead for the feds

To look upon the paperwork at home

So now I'm gonna flirt with the mini skirt

nice size legs, pop her head while they asses in the dirt

Rob Blow's gonna tell you bout alot of thingz

[Rob Blow]



[Verse Two:]



As you look into my eyes, destruction

Youse a fool, thinkin I'm the one that you can do

Knowin I'm the one wrapped up straight through the trunk

poppin motherfuckers real quick, you bitch

and if you not on my side youse a trick

R-A-Tree, go sell yo meat.

And I'll start usin that fuckin jimmy

bitches and the niggaz hangin out at the party

I was rollin real ill, sippin off the grand marty

till a little sucka put his salt in my game

Don't know the real deal wassup with the nigga with the fame?

Back in the days at the age of 11

I was coppin houses, had rocks straight sellin

Rollin in the cutty pain black peanut butter top

Rollin through, smokin dank, sellin that high... what?

A little somethin to remember... 

plain and simple unless you want one to the temple

I'm doin down & dirty, dirty dozen was his name

I got game and fame and glory

Some of these niggaz got some weak ass stories

no poetry, it's all make believe

and they always be talkin about they got a gat up they sleeve

but they need some common sense

And if they wasn't aware, get ready to be lynched

because I'm serious about this drama shit

I'm way past being a menace....(so what is this?)[Chorus]



[Outro:]



We're talkin about alotz of thingz

lotz n lotz n lotz of thingz

And it's on till the break of dawn

Rob Blow

About alot of thingz

about to tell you bout alot of thingz

Rob Blow bout ot tell you bout alot of thingz

Much love to you Bigga Figga!

Hostin, roastin, off some top notch dank

What's goin on playaz? (up outta here)

That was Rob Blow, for the 94, down with the Get Low

Stright out of the motherfuckin Moe Town

We got to be on pound, you know what I'm sayin

up here in the get low studios

Tip toe through the Moe, you know what I'm sayin

and get low with my hoe

Rob Blow's bout to tell you about alot of thingz, cause it's on

Till the break of dawn don't ya see me?

Rob Blow, Rob Blow

You suckas can't fuck with the Get Low!

And it's on, and we outta here once again

(we up outta here main, peace)