Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song From My Hood to Your Blok, artist - Mr. Shadow. Date of issue: 02.10.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
From My Hood to Your Blok |
| It’s the advocate of gangstarism |
| I gotta give it to my fellons serving time in prison |
| Intermission with those oppossing my opponents die |
| Snatch a motherfucker for bluffing and they wonder why |
| Oh my, who am I? |
| The stalker of the night |
| Still crepping through them darkest of them streets |
| With my gangsters straight chiefing burning leaves |
| Of Hairy batches, like matches we leaving ashes |
| Mashing and we reacting with actions swinging like axes |
| Nothing relaxes me but fat blants and sticky bushes |
| The only kind of mariguana that a baller smokes and pushes |
| Using T-A-C for stimulation, intoxication |
| I’m the reason why they call it medication |
| It’s the return of the One Man Batallion |
| Bitch slapping fools like a pimp in the alleywun |
| Me and my dawgs break laws, you feel the heat |
| Unique dont let me speak unless you wanna meet defeat |
| One, Two many motherfuckers wanna blast me |
| But when they see me they walk right pass me |
| Acting like a bunch of little tricks |
| But all I gotta say to my enemies is suck my dick |
| I got dank that’ll make a motherfucker think, I for living |
| I am Mr. Shadow, Beyond Entertainment the unforgiven |
| All My dawgs swigging but all I do is rest |
| So when you smoke with me and Diablo |
| Motherfuckers bring you own, stoned like a motherfucker cloud nine |
| Beep as I recline, getting high fuck one time |
| Mind elevated banging daily on these streets |
| Where my soldiers play for keeps |
| And the grim always rips, this shady sons of sluts |
| Wanna put me in a bag, but I got that .45Mag |
| Ready to shoot me a filthy rat, strap on my waist line |
| Fool you wanna test mine come meet a motherfucker |
| Feell the heat and see that I never waste time |
| Ain’t no next time, bitch I roll in the West |
| Shit is so fucken hected, my babies momma is wearing a vest |
| Test my skills and feel the pain, brain cell killing every day |
| Drug dealing to get payed so fuck you, were all the same |
| One, two many motherfuckers wanna burry me |
| They think there scaring me, we’ll they just daring me |
| To reach for my motherfucking weapon. |
| stop supressing |
| Rearranging the residential section, presidential everything |
| From San Diego To Japan, Beyond Entertainment |
| Be fucking up the program, no damn cop is gonna stop me from smoking |
| We are already motherfucker thinking that I"m joking, bullet poking |
| Straight blasting on the otherside |
| Fuck attempted murder I’ma go and for a homocide |
| Wicked, why do motherfuckers try to get sick |
| If they know that It don’t amount to shit |
| Chico let the people know we get lethal with weapons |
| Who accept to this evil lyrical Jefe |
| Sur O' Este, 6−1-9 is all I know |
| No more blunts guess were headed to the liquor store |