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For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years my n***a, for years.

H-Town is the only place in this world
Where you can buy Screwed and Chopped Christmas Curls
That's how we love it here
Sippin' syrup, f**k a beer
Getting buck, IC cup
Hydro in the tupperware
Born with 2 bowling balls
Flier than the motocross
1st key was on the front
Now I pay the total costs
Started off mowing lawns
Then drove around in stolen cars
Momma like, "what's going on?"
All my homies closing cons
Told you haters more than twice
I'll chop you up, throw you over rice
Disappear likе poltergeist
Put you in a hole with opеn eyes
Now in days coke and ice is teaming up with that rock
Have you on the street tryna sell yo Momma laptop
And this sh*t just can't stop
Addiction is a force
That marries motherf**kers and won't let them get divorced
The street is a beast, and you're playing in its stomach
As you hear the voices calling you, 
You can't make them shut up. 
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years my n***a, for years.

Move Coke to the Cola
Mix it with the baking soda
9 pack is a Quarter
Pack 9 in a hosta
Dope House Ponderosa
Is a ranch in the valley
Make moves in the alley
And I bury 'em like Hally
Killas that blow brains
And it's never gon' change
Come to Hillwood where we live in the Stone Age
Turning the wrong page
And burning the bomb pay
Its 24/7, you get murdered in broad day
My paint is lavender but my seats more purpler
If you want me to front ya
I'ma need your furniture
I be quick to pull up in a dope fiends truck
Open up the tailgate
Load it up, load it up
I need your washer and dryer and mostly all that you got
They like, "man you only fronted me a 10$ rock"
Pocket full of stones
More cheese than enchilada
I'ma stack more chips then f**king Erica Stratta. 
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years my n***a, for years.

[Verse 3] 
17 bullets
And it drops a veal door
Blasted so much that my Glock is still sore
Talking real war
You gots to jail more
The dollar in your hand, 
I will rob and kill for
The Cops they feel more, afraid to creep
Especially through Hillwood where they play for Keys
See we sleep deprived and keep the company running
'cause it's hard to close your eyes when the money keep coming
The block is so hot that is sizzles my nizzle
And talking that shizzle, gets you hit by the
Missile
Need bondo from the pistol
On the console, 
Put me in the cross hold
I put you in a Taco
They say they got Los but that just isn't so
So if they ask if I'm dead
Tell them b*t*hes, no
I'm on the kitchen floor
Walking on my tippy toes
Thinking, "one day I'ma put this on a video." 
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years, I've been keeping nina Glock on c*ck
For years, I've been working on the block of rock
For years my n***a, for years

*Knocking*
Hey, Los
Hey Los, you there?
*Dog barking*
Ah, sh*t man, damn, my bad, my bad
*Dog barking fades out*

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