Low Profile

Beat Up

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What's up dog
What's up ey
What's up perro
I run with the real ones
Hey drop that shit holmes

[Chorus x2: Frank V]
If you a sucker on the streets you're getting beat up
If you a sucker in jail you're PC'd up
And we don't stop riding till the homies is free'd up
We g'd up from the feet up

[Royal T]
Are you a real gangster, a real shooter
Or just a prankster, cyber banger on your computer
Motherfucking phony, ese you don't know me
Only true blue can hang with real homies
Ese you get trapped up and slapped up
Drag your ass the the woods, you get wrapped up and capped up
Low Pro run the streets so, who you telling
After your death maybe your shit will start selling

[Lil' Rob]
Hey homeboy why you wanna start shit, I'll shoot up your apartments
And if I go out, I'll make sure I go out like Vargas
Fighting to the finish, Lil' Rob the sickest
Fucking up the program, cold like a snowman
Making you say oh man, slow you down like a slow jam
Leave you walking like an old man
I've got the formula, the formula to be destroying ya
Bullet holes all over ya, nice knowing ya

[Chorus x2]

[Frank V]
Holla at your boy Frank V when I'm rolling through your area
But not too loud cuz you know that I carry a
Four five auto, rich like lotto
The world is mine, or at least that's my motto
Chrome rims spinning, hoodrats grinning
Jesus piece around my neck but I can't stop sinning
Little homey I'm a true blue, I thought you knew fool
No cards I can't pull, no hoods I can't shoot through
Big pimping you never thought could exist
Low Pro on my chest, Frank V on my wrist
Where you're at I've been, where I'm at you'll never be
There's other rappers in this bitch but ain't none like me
Cuz I'm a shining star, ese fuck who you are
You got thugs in your car, I'll put slugs in your car
You got plaques on your wall, I'll put your backs on the wall
I'll subtract all of y'all, I'ma ball till I fall

[Chorus x2]

[True Breed]
Low Profile, SD 619
This California hustle make me California grind
Getting mine, so we don't waste nobody's time
Pick up my pants and tuck away my black nine
Hard rhyme, that's all I got shaking up your spot
Beating down your block, getting sighted by thirty cops
You wanna be a G, wanna be just like me
Face the consequences, stay sucker free

I keep it gangster loc, my life for the cash
Dumping shots at fools until their heads hit the dash
Doing dirt, put it work on these LA streets
Bringing real with my steel as I blast my heat
Getting high, born to ride cuz that's the way shit goes
Got fools all around just to let you know
Phat Bandit keep it cracking, keep pushing the keys
For player hation, home invasion trying to stop my G's

[Chorus x2]

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