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Happy Head - Hold Up lyrics
Verse 1:
 Yo, check
 I capital punish brothers that fronted
 Can only write rhymes any time they get blunted
 We be at the spot chillin
 While you're stealin
 Niggas is still walkin, Rasco is four-wheelin
 Only built for speed, yes indeed
 27 years old, with no seed
 I'm a raw breed
 But still got mouths to feed
 So don't be givin me shit I don't need
 I make the head hurt
 >From the supadupa legwork
 Now these brothas be wantin the red shirt
 I bring it to the chest when I suppass the rest
 Now a different story when I come blast the vest
 Teflon spittin and written, I stab kitten
 Comin out your face
 Sideways, it's forbidden
 Better get the guiden
 I swopped like Batmidden
 Soon as niggas open they mouth I start shittin
 Right down they neck, they threw the whole nine
 Seen you fools scopin my plans the whole time
 Said I couldn't rhyme, that's funny
 Women didn't want it but now they yell honey
 Bring 'em to the house
 Watch 'em come out the blouse
 Unzip the pants then watch the snake dance
 Assume the stance, cash in advanceHappy Head - Hold Up - http://motolyrics.com/happy-head/hold-up-lyrics.html
 I got the full package but watch the right hand
 Verse 2:
 It's the five-minute drill
 But still we stack bills
 Take you to the shop to fix them broke wheels
 Tell you how it feels to starve with no meals
 Bring it to the front to pump with no frills
 All extra shit can get the backsplit
 Ras be the brother that women relax with
 I do a backflip, then pirouette inject
 Plus be the nigga that never lost a bet
 Television sets ain't big enough to see
 And now my career ain't big enough for three
 Still down with 'em, can talk and laugh with 'em
 But tell you one thing, can't split it in half with 'em
 Half a 1/3 to me sounds absurd
 I rather keep a 100% to pay rent
 Lay out the prints, the plans to stand grande
 And keep the joint jumpin from Philly to San Fran
 Never gave a damn how hard y'all can slam
 Broke out the mic to smoke your half gram
 A 150 pounds with worldwide respect
 Be chillin at the crib while Wolf signs the check
 1998
 Soul Father
 PB Wolf, on the 1's and the 2's
 Wack crews get bruised
 Check us out y'all
 Check us out y'all








