The Life Of Pi'erre 5

HULU

Jóvenes Millonarios

Niños Pequeños

[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

YIN YANG TAPES: Spring Season (1989-1990)

Realism Vs Idealism

REALISM VS IDEALISM

[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

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