[talking:] 

That's what it must be, that's right 

Yeah, as I walk through the valley of death 

I shall fear no evil, or no man 

But God is on my side, and with the Governor I'll ride 

The boss of all bosses, and we ain't taking no losses 



[Mr. 3-2:] 

I control that shit down South, so what's happening what's up with ya 

Mr. 3-2, the new down South Governor 

White sheets cover ya slugs smother ya, it's a mafia hit 

Ain't no stopping this shit, then you got's to die before you can get out the click 

We profit in chips, moving around worldwide 

My hustles grow and expanding, put our paper off a side 

Ready to ride, and do dirt if I gotta 

Unload a seventeen shotter, got the Bentley Rolls dropper 

Sipping muddy codien and leaning, the world is mine 

Trace a generation, nothing but killers in my bloodline 

It's redesigned fuck and split the mind, to take over 

Loose lips sink ships, so motherfucker I'ma show ya overthrow ya 

I got these broads, up under you understand 

While you falling in love, the whole time I'm peeping your hand 

Lil' broads bring the grands, and keep a G stack 

But ain't no reason for the treason, I'm just a Governor like that 



[Hook: x2] 

The boss of all bosses, down Southerner 

Mr. 3 to the 2, the Governor 

Ghetto politician, go and vote for me 

Cause my whole cavulry, represent reality 



[Mr. 3-2:] 

I'm a fool, so I act a fool on the track 

Cut boys no slack, put bullets in they back 

Up close I could smell ya, blood splatter over me 

Killer for real, it's the G-O-V 

I got down and say, Vatos waiting on the word 

To fuck boys off, over respect and birds 

I calm my nerves, but brain relaxer 

It's the bill collector, and I'm a real bad actor 

Big blades on a tractor, chopping up the South 

All the way to the East and West, yes they know what I'm about 

All my cashers let it shout, if you feel this heavyweighter 

Pieced up creased up, a million dollars later 

You feel the do' maker, nigga like me 

In this new millennium, the year 2G 

Who I be, S.U.C. my family to the end 

Hope I don't hit the Penn, but if I do it's on again 



[Hook x2] 



[Mr. 3-2:] 

Throwed off connected, and I'm from the old school 

I lay down the law, and what I say rules 

Start busting with the tool, on them niggaz who be hating 

Ain't nothing fly bout me, but my conversation 

Ask your lil' mama, or your main thang 

Bout Mr. 3-2, CEO of Street Game 

Let the AK's rain, fully automatic assault rifle 

Trying to get my life right, and live by the bible 

It's a thin line, between your body and a hundred pounds 

Today it's all good, tomorrow you six feet in the ground 

I'm out of town, with a broad that's fine looking jazzy 

While your whole family in black, carrying your casket 



[Hook x2]