[VERSE I: Wetto]

it's the pimp player
money maker
body layer
say a prayer
hoe stacking
pistol packing
white boy with the permed hair
choppa sprizzay 
what the biz say
i just brought a cold front
to the sizzouth
gold mizzouth
ice out like a storefront
slick spit that mack shit
make the track hit
ain't no time for a whack bitch unless the mouth sick
face down in the mattress
make that back dip
make her feel like an actress in a porno flick
ride off in a Benz thang
took off with no trace
psychopathic with that 9 mane
i might catch a case
mask on or the mask off
it don’t make no difference cuz I slide with them killas, mane
they don’t leave a witness
heard you tipping to the feds, mane
must be off your meds, mane
pissing in his pants when i put that chrome to his head, mane
leave him dead, mane
saved his boys some head pain
one less snitch in the gang
that's a net gain
bet, mane
heard it was that anna you was checking for
ruger, choppa, semi
what the fuck i need a vest for?
have them hoes tweaking like a despo
smoking on a blizzunt while this jizzunt make that neck go
damn bro
wetto beat them boys like a guerilla pimp
never simp
bring your beef to god because i'm heavent sent
talk that playa shit
hoes they circumvent
shout out project pat
mista don't play and i been leaning since

[VERSE II: Blanco Leopardo]

bitch im angola bound
going down to the southside of the lake
riding round town
plotting on whos shit im bout to take
if it's fake ima sell it
if it's real ima sell it
outside of the lexus forest green 
i know you jealous
born a warlord out the ward of the seventh
all these deadly sins i think the fifth made me a felon
begging for armageddon 
i got eleven virgins waiting for me heaven
bitch i ain't stressing
pimp a bitch just because
blanco never need a reason, hoe
never tell these hoes a secret unless you wanna leak it, hoe
seen a ghost but i was puffin piff up in the mirror
you want smoke?
fit you in a coffin then ill say it clearer 
i got corners in gentilly where we slang that millie bobbie brown
never been on trial cuz the bodies wasn't ever found
thats how we do em down south
bayou style 
feed the gators when them rats start running wild
tryna bite my style
i got skulls floating in the swamp
i got bones covered up in moss
blanco burnin up a fuckin cross
all my demons know whos fucking boss
ooweeoo
who are you?
ruby rougarou
holla hootie hoo when you see them boys in baby blue
ooweeoo
who are you?
blanco in a coupe
uzi out the roof raining bullets

YIN YANG TAPES: Spring Season (1989-1990)

Chateau Gris

CHÂTEAU GRIS

[VERSE I: Blanco Leopardo]

yeah they call me yung mutt
in the cut smelling like some indica
all these hoes keep splitting cuffs
spilling guts
no ands, ifs, or buts
if her butt was any fatter i'd be fucked and quickly bust
splatter kids all on her mug like she's allergic to my nut
give her antihistamines
pistol green like it's a buck
trigger squeezing like i'm fiending for a reason to give up 
bend your knees
begging please like i could really give a fuck
uzi tucked against my spleen
i'll make you bleed until you rust
for the static, i'm an addict
back at it like a chiropractic crack habit
if i want it ima have it
knock you off this fucking planet
send your corpse up to the stars replace em all with fucking maggots
pants saggin'
red flaggin'
ima get the bag whether it's paper or it's plastic
all these fuckboys i be slappin'
aint got time for all your cappin’
ima conjure up my demons
whisper all their names in latin

[VERSE II: Wetto]

yung wetto
it's yung north, mane
whipping in a ford thang
gripping on the hammer
indiana
slicky fort wayne
pot filled with white dust
house color white nut
looking for the chewing
patrick ewing out a white slut
cup dirty
glock 30
murk a motherfucker quick
eastern bloc
sticker shock
custom how i rock a benz
5% on the tint looking like the babadook
fuck a fight i'd rather shoot
my youngin' hollering hootie hoo
i yell amen
hollow tips rain in
59 guerilla
i'm too real for them to cage in
southern cajun
suckers bite the pavement
told that hoe to hit my agent talking bout engagements
fuck a blame shift
i'm that motherfucker, boy
creeping thru the night
turbos breathing like they paranoid
billy bob a halle berry
wetto makaveli
northside
burn em all at the stake while singing bloody mary

Realism Vs Idealism

REALISM VS IDEALISM

[VERSE I: Wetto]

i'm with that fuck shit
pull up we get buck quick
my hoe down like faye but sometimes she can be a dumb bitch
out here since a young jit
nitrous got my lungs lit
wake up from a blackout getting head while I’m in publix
ridin' through the hood like what it do?
prolly off a pill or two
pulled that .44 out
they start talking like they scooby doo
mobbing with my potnahs
we pop in no knocking
nodding off that dope and for dessert just ate neurontin
hit a stain
make a name for a lame tik tok
northside 
grey the gang
2nd world eastern bloc
i might rock it off the flock
i might rock it off apache
i might fuck up on that bitch
if she got a pack of plan b
mane show you how that glock work
show you how to pop first
white trash young man
mop 'em up like Joe Dirt
my hoe like her throat hurt
suck it for a nip tuck
that bitch tried to tell me that I’m sick
so what that make her?
i just bought some land off my LAL 
kilo of some GLD
still the same mane gripping AKs wearing FTP
paint em like a NFT
got them scripts no PHD
my bitch brain insane but she only got her GED
gang coast to coast yea I know me a few robbers
dope game farm to table ain’t no fent up in my product
huh bruh
damn son
who the fuck raised you
cutthroats and them savages how you think I got this name boo?

[VERSE II: Blanco Leopardo]

i could show you how to get it poppin
ruby da cherry ain't got no option
all these hoes keep fuckin flockin
all these hoes tryna gimme noggin
snort a line of heron then tell her she way too toxic
yeah i'm slidin' on these bitches like my feet were made for moppin' 
i can't stop it if i wanted to
glock up in my foreign coupe
scrapin up the concrete
s500 on them 22's
motorola phone when i'm dialing up my potnah
think i'm being followed by a fed in a unmarked impala
skrilla squalla what i'm after
i get money hoe by any means
paper chasin' everyday
i keep them rocks up in my cleats
cut me with some scissors you gon see how much i fuckin bleed
but ill come back with fucking tanks and blow yo shit to smithereens
blick on me
click on me
G*59 the fuckin set
suicide til death 
i'll yell it pokin' out my fuckin' chest
live from the 5 put the 0 behind the 4 
make a point before the numbers just to let you bitches know
i got five killas and they all down to fucking ride
i can call on any of 'em if you down to fuckin die
walk it how i talk it bitch and i aint got no fuckin lisp
whisper my forbidden name and give my hand a fuckin kiss
out the mud
out the mist
ruby take the form of shadows
follow me back to the gates of hell 
we regroup at the gallows
i can smell the scent of blood and i can smell the scent of piss
leave ya body rottin' lock ya soul up in the black abyss

Hot Razor

HOT RAZOR

[VERSE I: Wetto]

killer with that AK get this motherfucker bussin'
tell a hoe to get the fuck if she ain't here to suck it
creepin' on a come up i got fam that need some funding
i'm ducking from drugging and sipping that Tussin and bloating up my stomach
i need the D
the O
the P the E
riding clean
the G the L
E 63
oowee
see chicken heads, they fiend for me
yung north
S-I-D-E
W-E-T
verse two in the booth with a glock loaded
off so many meds
am i coming or i'm going?
fuck an interview, mane
i'm too raw to sugar coat it
see a dead man walking 
next election he'll be voting
pimp on a track
mix dope with the crack
i might slide
camo mask
turn your hood to iraq
bury suckers
fuck a groupie
that's the truth i feel like gucci
i got 99 problems and not one is you gon shoot me
we got anna, motherfucker?
let me know or keep your mouth shut
slicky make a million every time i give that mouse touch
slicky whip that wrist and make a motherfucking ounce jump
wetto mack a bitch
play hard to get and get her mouth fucked
sick motherfucker
no mind motherfucker
that white trash high taxed dying motherfucker
tell the world eat my dick
ima prick motherfucker
life hell
tough shit
i'm the bic motherfucker

[VERSE II: Blanco Leopardo]

fully loaded choppa
knew this bitch who lived on tchoupitoulas
bitch seemed like an opportunist
flockin' just to jock my new shit
stopped in houston
belly looking swollen
better stop abusing wock and chewing fent
yeah all my teeth are fucking rotten
cruising down your block and you know blanco lighting blunts of herb
carefully choose your words
unless you'd rather bite the fucking curb
what's the word?
whatchu fucking heard?
blanco smite the herd
fuck your bitch until her spine is curved
blanco spiked your nerves
bitches on my dick like a love bug
tryna get their claws up in me like a fucking mud bug
bitch ima smug thug
calling up my young plug
playa all that smoke is gonna make me get my lungs scrubbed
i need a breath of fresh air
splash some water on my face
looking back on my mistakes
regretting them is such a waste
keep it pimpin'
move it forward like i'm running just to race
devil right behind me like a finished first place
all of these haters keep wishing that they could be me
all on my steez
spreading my wings but i ain't taking anyone under them
why can't i just glide in peace
using these drugs to release
fucking these bitches for free
flirting with death
i keep promising things 
when's he gonna know that im a tease and i'm just tryna get a lil sleep?
capitalizing the G
F to the I to the V to the E
N to the I to the N to the E to the F to the O to the R to the L to the I to the F to the E
for my gang i will do anything
for my gang i will do everything

YIN YANG TAPES: Summer Season (1989-1990)

Bloody 98 (feat. Ghostmane)

BLOODY 98 (FEAT. GHOSTEMANE)

[VERSE I: Blanco Leopardo]

shawty said to stop gas lighting but i keep on lighting gas
puff a blunt
hit from the back while i ash it on her ass
ima nasty motherfucker
long lasting motherfucker
grab her hair and make her pussy drip
im splashing in a puddle
blanco been a pimp
no i aint never been a sucker
all these fuckbois on my dick you would think that im their mother
the one and fucking only no there wont ever be another
me and wetto verse the world ill do whatever for my brother
take one in the dome
make it count cuz ima shoot back
pull up like a shadow always got em asking whos that
blanco such a mystery i thought you bitches knew that
why yo mans such a liar man i swear he need a new cap
two black hearses peeling off into the night sky
shit i might cry
sitting back thinking bout my life let out a slight sigh 
shit always goin wrong but i pop out on the right side
reppin' *59

[VERSE II: Wetto]

i see them fuck boys steady talking but they never get specific
my pimpin' got her dripping like she walked the whole pacific
scarecrow be the mythic how i break the laws of physics
choppa monolithic paint your face like hieroglyphics
blanco busting roxy’s with the amex with no limit
i might rob my local clinic now it’s methadone for dinner
black coupe
hearse boy
whip look like a cursed toy
switch it up the next day pick a new one out the convoy
sickest of the richest
told my bitch we need some bitches
counting all these benjis got my brain fucked up and glitching
itching off that fenty i made millions nodding off
jean wetto basquiat
slicky fugue it like he bach
all my exes in the rearview
looking for a take 2
breaking hoes hearts on occasions turn em gay too
that one you can’t replace boo
that pain up in your swisher
monet of the grey
i up that K and paint a picture

Starry 9

STARRY 9

[VERSE I: Blanco Leopardo]

i got 5 bullets left in my 9
grey matted glock lookin' to fuck up someone’s spine
mane i do this all the time
yeah i might be cherry but my haters all pie
see the reaper smiling when you look me in my eye
ridin' down marconi
got my tony on me
my whip look like heavy cream
inside pepperoni
fleetwood day dreamin' but i'll never let em step up on me
shout out all my florida and my texas homies
got my gut sticking out 
i'm from fat city
every time i hit the block them cops is acting piggy
blanco never left the 7th ward
from LA to new york
yeah you know i settle scores
i try to yall up to date on my escapades
PS5 up in the escalade
riding down esplanade
wock up in my lemonade
now them demons in my head get some shade
pull the tool out then look at the mess i made
i can't fix shit but my desire to get high
all my homies that done died
they all watch me from the sky
life can be fucked up but im glad to be here
lookin for the love but instead i see fear
shawty saw my dick like when headlights meet deer
told her turn around and then i pulled her rear near
i told her listen up like you got like three ears
you my whole world i can't even see spheres

[VERSE II: Wetto]

pull up playa mackin'
bought my bitch her back end
whip self park 
getting head while i back in
mane I’m getting paid just to sigh and breathe it back in
used to cash change for some cigs
$5 on pump 10
northside superstar
pull up just to piss em off
shorty seen my bills I said it’s nil to what this kitchen cost
show you how to pimp a broad
show you how to lift a cross
playas up suckers down
pussies i just kill em off
tipping 4's on them hoes
slick don’t usually talk a lot
riding with some guns that turn your home into a parking lot
fire up a swisher sweet
eyes looking bittersweet
broken heart shorty but it’s yet to miss a fucking beat
3 'n tha mornin'
it’s just me and screw, mane
too many thangs I wish that wasn’t true, mane
been pimping keys like I’m steven hugh
germans growling sounding like a european zoo
what it do
foreign 'cedes and a caddy slab
caddy for my dad
bought my girl a new macan
northern land
southside that’s where I began
i'm rolling vengeance that's forever like I’m warren van
sail through the south
gold in my mouth
ball on these hoes like I’m luka downtown, mane 
one for the money
two 30s for pain
xan for my nerves only way I stay sane, mane

5 'N The Mornin'

5 'N THE MORNIN'

[VERSE I: Wetto]

pull up in a benz
higher than a bitch
northside playa getting head from a stripper
gold mouth dizzog
fucking with that heron
dog food shorty
all that shit you selling stepped on
better get the fuck on
fuck up off the strizzeet 
pull that glizzy glock
I make it pop and leave him deceased
took his hoe with me
i heard she was a frizzeak
coke bottle physique
her pussy got a earring
let my girl fuck her
hit her with the strap on
kick back like a mizack while I get the dizzome
sipping on sizzurp
i can’t hear a wizzord
that chopper leave em leaking
put his body in the dizzirt 
banging with my folk 
face on us like poker
them boys from the northside
execute you on your sofa
mane who the smizzoke? 
i die for kinfolk
that pride will leave you crizzoaked 
when I slide with that pistol
N O R T-zee
H S I D E-zee
ride through the city
them freak hoes show they titties
popping on them pizzills
pussies know the dizzeal
wetto keep the stizzeal 
too thick in the vizzille

[VERSE II: Blanco Leopardo]

bitch i been fucking these bitches
now i'm ducking these bitches
untouchable limitless
hoe don't fuck with my business
kermit on my wrist look slick
thats 16 thou around my fist
day dreaming of money cuz tonight i might just hit some licks
take your pick
should i whip the new benz or the ‘56?
59 ways to die and all of them involving slick
sloth cleaning his pistol while i load another 60 clips
ready to go to war but they always end up with slit wrists
i'm so sick and tired of all these fakes and liars
thinking that they fire
when really they admire what we do 
biting and biting 'til our style all chewed up
now my head all screwed up
i threw up on a bitch when i was fucking on her late last night
wetto gave me a fenty patch boy was feeling nice
drooling on myself i couldn't even get my dick up
i coulda been a mark if i wasn't so fucking cliqued up
grey *59 bitch id die for one of mine
southside of the lake i travel north to see my slime
new orleans born n bred ill make a dollar out a dime
always on my toes i keep my fingers on my nine

[VERSE III: FREDDIE DREDD]

i hope they recognize 
fuckin with me you will see the devils eyes
not alive
hear the freddie dredd you better run inside
i got my glockie with me
bitches always acting shifty
im countin up think bout 50
testin me is very risky
you aint so hard
fuckin bitch you fuckin fraud
aint my job
teach a lesson
betta count ya fuckin blessings
imma boss
take the loss
if ya hate me
fingers crossed
imma beast
aint the least
get to killin
its a feast
one more time
on my grind
and i never have to find
what im looking for
say the word and bodies start to hit the floor
i think i got to go
im running from the time you know
im freddie dredd you hoe
posted in the cold before
i never heard of you
pussy boi aint got the juice
i wanna kill a fool
thats all i want to do
stockin up on ammo
always ready for the next
im about to fuck ya life up
cuse you fuckin with the best
freddie please
do not do it 
freddie please
can you stop
nah bitch ima demon
and im runnin on the clock

YIN YANG TAPES: Fall Season (1989-1990)

Provolone & Heroin (feat. Freddie Dredd)

PROVOLONE & HEROIN (FEAT. FREDDIE DREDD)

[VERSE I: Blanco Leopardo]

bitch im poppin sticks like im nick cannon
smash her like im ganondorf
all my homies stuntin
we all ballin like we manage sports
fuckboi on my dick
wants a pic
go head and tag the dork
miss me with that bullshit
yeah i shoulda been a matador
slap a whore
choke a bitch
man i think i broke her hip
fuck her til she soaked in piss
i plan to make a note of it
blanco always faded like a motherfucking poke n stick
ready to snatch a soul
seal ya fate up with a frozen kiss
i'm smoking bliss
turn a fuckboy into mist
scratch a name off of my list and add another
just for kicks
open slit up on my wrist
yeah i think they get the gist
tighten up my fucking fist
blanco never fucking miss
spit out the drip
dont want crystals in my stomach
all these crystals on my bitch
align her chakras while we fuckin
rearranging all her plumbing
all these suckas think they stuntin'
but they really just lame
spittin' out flames
bitch i bang grey 
five nine til the day i die
my tear ducts all dried
i fear i dont know why i feel so normal when im high
all these voices in my head i cant tell which one is the lie
always bring the storm yeah blanco blackin out the sky

[VERSE II: Wetto]

give it how these haters want it
break a bitch up on it
yung slick walking coma as i smoke the marijuana
its yung north 
make the bass shake
tell a bitch wait
diamonds shine as i flip it
ship it make the weight skate
i been wrist whipping
flocking chickens
when i slide pimping
glock gripping
pop a clip in
have your mind spinning
spine bending
bloody linens in your mom kitchen
crime ridden
hood i'm from ain’t got no prime lending
slicky flame sizzle
rolling with a tank missile 
tell a hoe to hit them knees and let me fuck her brain tissue
i'm popping 30s seeing blurry
still I can’t miss you
pop the stick and blow the clip
kill everyone that came with you
same issues
playing russian roulette with revolvers
i go gung ho with that drum roll like i'm travis barker
“last offer”
hear the devil talking to me often
fuck a coffin when I die just burn me in a foreign
wetto chris walken
haunted like the deer hunter
you a larp with no heart just tuck your dick under
you a fed you a cop you a real uncer
scarface wetto with that metal let that steel rumble

Every Dog Has His Day

EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY

[VERSE I: Wetto]

motherfuck that set you claim
you know it's cut throat from the grey
hoe stay the fuck away
glock tucked on my side
pull up like i'm AAA
any motherfucking time
any motherfucking day
demons all around me and they begging for a fucking taste
same shit
different day
playing with the K
northside
eastern bloc
where the fuck i stay
still up creeping in the cut
remain sick as fuck
pop a addy off the fent
feel too good to duck
breaking bad
i been rolling with the devil lately
have you ever seen a demon pull up in a new mercedes?
most hated
underrated
you know grey the clique
walking straight to hell and clear the motherfucking pit
better stay away
better stay away
stay the fuck away
stay the fuck away
i just popped a perc
i just popped a xan
see this bag of dope?
that's a hundred grand
sell a bitch some hope
fuck her hit the dash
looking for some love?
holler at ya mans
for that heroin ima dog
slicky pavlov
yeah you know it's personal when the mask off
leave his body on display like it's half off
scammed the game
call me bernie wetto madoff
glock out
cock out
tell the world suck my dick
sam wetto hyde cuz i always get away with it
three fingers high
59 what the fuck it is
three fingers high bitch im grey til the fucking end

[VERSE II: Blanco Leopardo]

blanco never shootin' blanks
got one in the chamber with yo name on it
blanco pulling rank
captain of the grey 
stay flauntin' in a fucking tank
east bank
got my blade sharpened
cut, slice, or shank
either way ima flay my target
why all these opps on my block, huh?
pull out the chop like a mop, bruh
street sweeping like its mardi gras
litter up the streets with a buncha bloody body parts
swangin' on them 30s
got them 30s in my glove box
cops pull me over
they about to get they mug popped
cherry lemonade type of stain 
pull off in the rain
spilt his fucking brain like a bitch who loves to chug cock
leave me the fuck alone
leave me the fuck alone
leave me the fuck alone
leave me the fuck alone
grey steppin'
im reppin' the *59
all of my potnahs my lifeline
30 deep
33 years i could keep
if i stop with these 30s, im cleared for the week
gang with me
whole gang with me 
i got no fear in these streets
bang semi autos while im hanging out the fucking jeep
never sleep
tweakin' off the rock
blanco plays for keeps
real life drug addict
come downs always fucking steep
never sleep
i know that the reaper waiting for me
i know that he patient
i see his reflection when im pouring up
codeine in a cup 
double it up
now im snoring
i might not wake up
uzi tucked next to my 40
southside of the lake
yeah im always 7th warding
all these pills i take em, bitch 
there aint no fucking hoarding
i got two phones
shawty try and hit me on my other line
shawty lookin fine
gonna call her back another time
dollar signs on my fucking mind
while i break her spine
pulled out just in time
i cant let her have my fucking slime

REALISM VS IDEALISM

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