"Young Illa" by Illa WhiteFolks 
Lyrics submitted by wardedout

Verse 1

You gotta know it by now 
Got all these rappers holdin' my style 
They hot fa Illa, just like these young hoes in the crowd 
I got 'em rubbin'they clits 
That's when I tell ém put this work in that pussy 
and tell ya girls to hide these guns in they ‘fits 
and they oblige as they wipin'all the cum off they tits 
man I'm so high I can barley think up the words I should spit 
but then it always comes to me better than I imagined 
these dummies wanna undo me, but they asses be draggin' 
‘cause in reality they can't do it 
see I'm respected like El Rukins, 
got it Jukin'from Flint, Michigan to St. Louis 
show me the target, I'll put a hollow tip straight through it 
I really think I'd prefer to sell dope than make music 
Some people try to live the same life as me, but they loose it 
They can't get mad when they knee deep in shit cause they choose it 
Ya'll built a wall to keep me out, I had to break through it 
Welcome to my party, even though you late to it

Chorus

Verse 2

Now lets get one thing straight 
Hoe you can say what you want 
But if you ridin' with the mob you betta not say what you saw 
That's against the code of The Wal 
I be sniffin'coke in a stall 
While you all laid up in the lake, not gettin' noticed at all 
See I'm the coldest of all, man I just aint got my props 
Yeah Joe you dress like you paid, but hoe you aint got my knots 
So lets just keep it at that, I used to sleep with the rats 
Strapped up with a jenky 22, but now I be with a mach 
I'm buyin'stock in that black gold, gettin' neck like a lasso 
While you question if that's so, I'm in rich bitches assholes 
Then pull out to the face 
And it aint no secret I'ma make a mil' and pull out the race 
Watch Illa do just like Mase 
I aint finna do it like Face, get all shot up while I'm shoutin' 
Fall off the balcony and lay my ass face down in a fountain 
Homeboy I'm smarter than that 
This mob life muthafucka, this the part of the rap 
where we blow ya heart out ya back 
Boom!

Chorus

Verse 3

I'm kid tested and I'm mother approved 
I'm from that city where these record labels fuck with someone other than you 
And that don't make no fuckin'sense when you hearin' these beats 
Aint no Da Brat's or no Common Sense here in these streets 
It's just Illa from way back in the day 
Put it in reverse and I'm still gangbangin while my ass is backin'away 
Off a fat sack of that hay, with two clips if you fuck with me 
These pussy faggots got two lips where their nuts should be 
I'm make that shit to make you wanna serve anotha clucka 
I put you in the mood to go and hurt a muthafucka 
I took a charge for my guy, no need to brag Joe 
They split my gut open, had me shittin' in a bag Joe 
And all that considered, man I'm still ahead of ya'll 
Don't be bitter man, just ‘cause Illa man said it all 
Illa can set it off if you hoes wanna ride 
Steal a man in his jaw and leave holes in his side 

Chorus