I come through this bitch,
Hangin' my pistol out the window
Rollin', when I come through the hood,
Rollin', pistol out the window
Bell Parkway, I got it on my lap,
Rollin', when I come through this bitch,
hangin' my pistol out the window
Rollin', when I come through the hood,
this is my motherfuckin' house
Mick Jagger and his bitch,
This is my motherfuckin' house,
M .O .P., print on your face, cheese
Throw it up, Brownsville, load it up
I'm committed to get it back
in case you niggas don't know what up
I'm the king of this hard shit
Though I've never been an artist,
The credentials my hood gave me
Potential to rock nations
watch a nigga come up short
It's a blood sport, my nigga,
If I'm the n***a you cross,
it's just on and of course I'll be
Rollin' Pistol out the window
When I come through the hood,
Rollin' Pistol out the window
N****s know what I come through
Still down to let slugs unload,
and y 'all niggas know my M .O.
and I do it to death though
Cause I love the cold of the streets,
I'm in the deep all over the globe
I ain't the nigga to get caught up
inside of tricky situations
when I'm out about tricky situations
If they start hatin' again,
this ain't gon' just be a hot song
This might be my presentations
Your material things burn
But fuck that, I make they eyes burn bad
But don't come fuckin' with mine
Cause I work hard to get mine
But if you come fuckin' with mine
When I come through this bitch,
Hangin' my crystal out the window
When I come through the hood,
We don't give a fuck, we just in the cut
We really don't give a fuck,
Yeah, rollin', pistol out the window
Rollin', when I come through the hood,
Rollin', pistol out the window