| I’m in the hood pitchin' rocks out my front yard
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| I’m on the block gettin' guap on the boulevard
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| While you bitch niggas actin' like broads
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| I’m H-N-I-C the head nigga in charge
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| Get guap, never hate, never perpetrate
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| Never listen to what them suckas say, them niggas hella fake
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| I put the word out, niggas get eliminated
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| Young Stalin done made it, they damn sure hate it
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| I used to be broke so I guess I updated
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| Flirted with the turf, moved hella worth
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| Purple for dessert, smokin' in Arizona
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| No matter where ever I’m at I’m hanging on the corner
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| Lookin' around, checkin' everybody gear
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| Like yup, I’m the freshest nigga over here (over here)
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| Trailing the money like a stock broker
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| Cause when it comes to the coke I’m a share holder
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| Jesus on my shoulder, one nation under him
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| Fuck with young Stalin, nigga I’ll smother them
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| Livewire hold the West up like a safety pin
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| Stalin, Shady and Jay Jonah the fire man
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| I’m in the hood pitchin' rocks out my front yard
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| I’m on the block gettin' guap on the boulevard
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| While you bitch niggas actin' like broads
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| I’m H-N-I-C the head nigga in charge
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| The bag weigh a gram, the zip twenty nine
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| This shit gonna sell and these nigga gonna buy
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| They sixteen in L.A. tweny four in Chicago
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| I’m up and down the interstate, indo with the rallo
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| Thirty round dick in my shit with the hollow
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| I jump out strapped nigga every where that I go
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| It’s always a drought around Cinco de Mayo
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| But blood still got 'em for the seventeen five though
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| I dry cook, I don’t put it in the pot
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| I put it in the microwave and watch it rise to the top (ding!)
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| Hit it with the ice and make one big cookie
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| I got the Jackie-O if you niggas want the nookie
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| The zip come hard, I don’t sell my soft
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| And you ain’t gotta fuck with me, I’m a get mine all
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| Ice cream, seven hundred a pop
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| Add two more dollars if I gotta make the drop, fuck wit me
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| I’m in the hood pitchin' rocks out my front yard
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| I’m on the block gettin' guap on the boulevard
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| While you bitch niggas actin' like broads
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| I’m H-N-I-C the head nigga in charge
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| I got cream for the fiends on the dope spot
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| Rubber band knots, from the coke white
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| If I don’t hustle all day then I don’t sleep right
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| Livewire go, make sure a nigga money right
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| Plus my whip tight, I’m a hustler
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| You third string, that means you workin' for the customer
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| Nigga I blow more smoke than a muffler
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| Catch you outta pocket I’ll be knockin' at your jugular
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| Home of the brave, more game than a arcade
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| Work on the turf, got bitches on a blade
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| Fittin to stack my money up buy me a dropped escalade
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| Two thousand and eight Benz painted cherry kool-aid
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| With this snow I’m great, shit I know why they hate
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| Cause I’m famous in the hood like a Philly cheese steak
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| And I leave California whenever I take a break
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| Plus I take my scale so I know what I make
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| I’m in the hood pitchin' rocks out my front yard
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| I’m on the block gettin' guap on the boulevard
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| While you bitch niggas actin' like broads
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| I’m H-N-I-C the head nigga in charge |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song H.N.I.C. , by - J. Stalin. Song from the album Prenuptial Agreement, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп