"Comin Up Comin Down (Radio)" lyrics
Down
That G, in H-Town
South bound, as I clown
Come around, blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G, in H-Town
South bound, as I clown
Come around, blaze a pound
Well, let me jump
N this funk with a pump
And fake
Give me five funky dollars, you can bump my tape
'Cause my flow come realer
Than a dealer
Serving killer
Ain't nobody triller
Still a body chiller
Feel a millimeter coming quicker than a cheetah
Me drop you on your pita
Then snatch your senorita
I be the creeper
The back-street sweeper
Want a pound of reefer
Then hit me on my beeper
Leaf of the ganja
Make me really want you
Dip me up in water
Fried with me Sancha
Got you, me Glock
Pop, pop on your drop-top
The way I dodge cops
Like the rock in hopscotch
Drop a pig
I can dig deep
In your terrordome
Smoke
On my square alone
Don't no one care at home
Pair of chrome
Gats, blow backs on the sidewalk
I got my Glock
Popping hot rocks
In your body, party hardy, Lodi Dodi
Carley, your daddy smoke like Bob Marley
Sorry, I'm hardly the one you should learn from
Everywhere I turn, somebody wanna burn
One
It's the cursed son
Worse than the first one
When me gat burst
To the nurse or the hearse
'Cause I shoot 'em in the booty
Man, local Hillwoodian
Chopping on a cookie
Mamma put me in the loony bin
Could've been a better man
Up in Never, Neverland
Jesus' helping hand
Reason this record jam
Never ran, never will, still chill in Hillwood
Damn sure feel good
Living in a real hood
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Now, you can work on knees
You can jack for keys
I cut my cheese
And get to stacking Gs
I'm drinking Daiquiris
And ain't no jacking these
I got slack in the front
And the back of me
It's a tragedy
I was raised on streets
Blazed on sweets
And sprayed posses
Costly profession
Learned my lesson
'Bout impressing
My clique with Smith-N-Wesson
Addressing ghetto issues
When I sold me crack
Had me mom going through a box of tissues
But if I was in his shoes
I'd probably still lose
It's in my blood to kill fools
Him choose death when he disrespect
Inject my tech
And then I press "Eject"
The Mex'll check
Any clique that trips
It don't make sense talking lip to clips
Now which way to run?
Where do you hide?
Boo-yah, ooh you, almost died
Now take a ride with me
Through the deep blue sky
Here, take a hit, let me get you high
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Like that
That G, in H-Town
South bound, as I clown
Come around, blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G, in H-Town
South bound, as I clown
Come around, blaze a pound
Well, let me jump
N this funk with a pump
And fake
Give me five funky dollars, you can bump my tape
'Cause my flow come realer
Than a dealer
Serving killer
Ain't nobody triller
Still a body chiller
Feel a millimeter coming quicker than a cheetah
Me drop you on your pita
Then snatch your senorita
I be the creeper
The back-street sweeper
Want a pound of reefer
Then hit me on my beeper
Leaf of the ganja
Make me really want you
Dip me up in water
Fried with me Sancha
Got you, me Glock
Pop, pop on your drop-top
The way I dodge cops
Like the rock in hopscotch
Drop a pig
I can dig deep
In your terrordome
Smoke
On my square alone
Don't no one care at home
Pair of chrome
Gats, blow backs on the sidewalk
I got my Glock
Popping hot rocks
In your body, party hardy, Lodi Dodi
Carley, your daddy smoke like Bob Marley
Sorry, I'm hardly the one you should learn from
Everywhere I turn, somebody wanna burn
One
It's the cursed son
Worse than the first one
When me gat burst
To the nurse or the hearse
'Cause I shoot 'em in the booty
Man, local Hillwoodian
Chopping on a cookie
Mamma put me in the loony bin
Could've been a better man
Up in Never, Neverland
Jesus' helping hand
Reason this record jam
Never ran, never will, still chill in Hillwood
Damn sure feel good
Living in a real hood
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Now, you can work on knees
You can jack for keys
I cut my cheese
And get to stacking Gs
I'm drinking Daiquiris
And ain't no jacking these
I got slack in the front
And the back of me
It's a tragedy
I was raised on streets
Blazed on sweets
And sprayed posses
Costly profession
Learned my lesson
'Bout impressing
My clique with Smith-N-Wesson
Addressing ghetto issues
When I sold me crack
Had me mom going through a box of tissues
But if I was in his shoes
I'd probably still lose
It's in my blood to kill fools
Him choose death when he disrespect
Inject my tech
And then I press "Eject"
The Mex'll check
Any clique that trips
It don't make sense talking lip to clips
Now which way to run?
Where do you hide?
Boo-yah, ooh you, almost died
Now take a ride with me
Through the deep blue sky
Here, take a hit, let me get you high
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Coming up
Coming down
That G in H-Town
South-bound as I clown
Come around
Blaze a pound
Like that
