Don’t Hide It

[Verse 1: Grimm]
Automatics kick it
Reloaded, streets done exploded
But hold it
Laws all control it, all my soldies devoted
Loc's are focused on the bullets, (???) lead lotus
Pour some more, cause I got love for my dead homies
Bred bogus
Reminiscin' 'bout the days
Gettin' blazed, stayin' paid, cook my yay in microwaves
I was raised, ballin' pays, off the pages of gangsta ways
Sharp as razor blades
Hard to fade my race
In your face
Place to place, flippin' channels
Got the dope within the panels, from the valley to Ingrando
Nothing we can't handle
Mexicanos out of Texas
Runnin' with the best, cous', fuck with nothing less, cous'

Chorus: Grimm
Boy, don't you hide it
Roll it up and light it
It's how we do it in the south east
When you ride, you gotta pack your piece
It's all the same up in the north east
Boy, don't you hide it
Roll it up and light it
It's how we do it in the north west
Put to rest if you ain't wearing your vest
It's all the same down in the south west

(Verse 2)
[Lil' Bing]
The FEDs on me (FEDs on me)
I reminisce about my dead homie (Dead homie)
Nine in the vest, they tryin' to put some lead on me (Lead on me)
Cops on the licks, robbin' boys nonsense
Who's next with the plex, we knockin' boys off the deck
I'm known to wreck, I'm Bing, I ain't gon' drop my flag
I'll drop my sample up, and I'll drop your ass
Pull out and smash
Just a youngsta about his cash
I'm the first and I'm the last, I-K-E, bring it back

[Ike Man (Lil' Bing in background)]
With south fiends on lock
Grimm, Ike and Bing's on top
South east, we wreck shop
I'm gon' blast for the block
Murder, murder with the Glock, nigga
We bust shots, nigga
With dead dots, nigga
The FED's hot
We the realest and what not, be killers that won't stop
You niggas is gon' drop
Fuckin' with the wrong block
Off the top, this one here's for my dead homie (Dead homie)
I'm over here, reminiscin' when you bled on me (Bled on me)

Repeat Chorus

[Verse 3: Grimm]
The game's had its worst
Riding your homie in the hearse
No prayer for his soul, at the church, still it hurts
To know that he's gone
Thought he'd live long
Hard to stay strong, wanna know what went wrong
Still ain't nothing you could do to bring your homie back
Steady puff, pour the brew, and remember rollin' 'Llacs
Now, we mourn the Pat
And the 'Pac and the B.I.G.'s
Eazy-E and Scholar Rock, forever lives
In the minds and hearts, of players, ballers and pimps
That done refine the arts, of proper measurements
Settin' precedents, for all the hustlers to come
That live and die by the gun, but still gon' ride til that time comes

Repeat Chorus