Raw Smoov - Hillside lyrics

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Raw Smoov - Hillside lyrics

[Reporter:] Thus topic of news right now surveillance cameras Captured a terrifying attack at a store in Vallejo [Chorus:] Ridin through the turf, on Magazine You know I stay strapped, with a magazine Put it to your face, like a magazine I stay on the case, cause I'm from Magazine n***a I'm from Hillside H-I-L-L-S-I-D-E n***a I'm from Hillside H-I-L-L-S-I-D-E [Verse 1:] H-I-L-L-S-I-D-E M-A-G-A-Z-I-N-E- Vallejo, California my city No pity, for a s**a can't be no sissy Motherf**ers smoke weed like a hippy, get tipsy, like Wine-O's, stay whisky Country a** city boys with hunting rifles bring the ruckus Beverly Hillbillies big old corn-fed motherf**ers What'cha need my n***a, got every narcotic in the world for sale I ain't Wayne Brady but let's make a deal Like Drew Carey, mane the price is right I got pills, trees and that white white white The Hillside, have money have heart Just like the Watts tower we got the kindey walk That's the hood landmark like John Davidson Park Cutla**, Oldsmobile, thangs, coogers and larks Posted with thumps ginormous oversize guns Me and my potnas my brothers and my cousins [Chorus] [Verse 2:] Uhh! When I was a young cub a lion though a young cat baby bufflalo Money and muscle born in the struggle, turf wars not tug-a-war Shootouts, high speeds, on top of the roof and trees On the side of the house with gages, rifles and 223's Back then it used to be pagers not Wi-fi and 4G When I was seventeen me and my crew went half on a key Now I'm making more in a day and my momma making a week Jewelry, clothes, new shoes on my feet Having my cabbage hella slap a lavish trunk full of prop Roofers, tweeters and horns, doing they f**in job Getting em up thrown em, bobbing and weaving beastin' Nickeling up with OG's in the middle of the street in Earning my strips and medal no process silver just gold Pickos in the summer, even when it ain't cold I throw my H in the sky, everywhere I go nationwide If they ask you where I'm from, tell em Hillside [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Alhambra, Beverly Drive, La Brea Earl Street, Carmel, Didion Court, Wilshire Hollywood Ave, Volute, Magazine Street rolling Half of my cash yolkin, punching the gas smokin' [?] parking my car in the gra** feeling good Sitting on top of the hood be flicking and serving knocks pushing bags, giving them love juh 24 hour shift and grittin everyday all day 7-11 turf for even a lil warmed up in the microwave Hillside for life, always been about my bread Look up to Alick, Rick Young, Too-Shay, Ju Ju and OG Nitch Jon Jon and Robert Craig, Victor, Cook and Tyrone and em Miss Smith and Loney Smurf, Jimmy Blackman and all of them See the spot right here, this used to be Mr. Jimmy's Why give a Wine-O a dollar to buy a beer for me? Around the corner from the Travelodge and Mickey D You 'lible to find me at the Kit-Way Bowling alley BEATCH! [Chorus]