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[talking:] That's what it must be, that's right Yeah, as I walk through the valley of death I shall fear no evil, or no man But God is on my side, and with the Governor I'll ride The boss of all bosses, and we ain't taking no losses [Mr. 3-2:] I control that shit down South, so what's happening what's up with ya Mr. 3-2, the new down South Governor White sheets cover ya slugs smother ya, it's a mafia hit Ain't no stopping this shit, then you got's to die before you can get out the click We profit in chips, moving around worldwide My hustles grow and expanding, put our paper off a side Ready to ride, and do dirt if I gotta Unload a seventeen shotter, got the Bentley Rolls dropper Sipping muddy codien and leaning, the world is mine Trace a generation, nothing but killers in my bloodline It's redesigned fuck and split the mind, to take over Loose lips sink ships, so motherfucker I'ma show ya overthrow ya I got these broads, up under you understand While you falling in love, the whole time I'm peeping your hand Lil' broads bring the grands, and keep a G stack But ain't no reason for the treason, I'm just a Governor like that [Hook: x2] Letras de cancionesThe boss of all bosses, down Southerner Mr. 3 to the 2, the Governor Ghetto politician, go and vote for me Cause my whole cavulry, represent reality [Mr. 3-2:] I'm a fool, so I act a fool on the track Cut boys no slack, put bullets in they back Up close I could smell ya, blood splatter over me Killer for real, it's the G-O-V I got down and say, Vatos waiting on the word To fuck boys off, over respect and birds I calm my nerves, but brain relaxer It's the bill collector, and I'm a real bad actor Big blades on a tractor, chopping up the South All the way to the East and West, yes they know what I'm about All my cashers let it shout, if you feel this heavyweighter Pieced up creased up, a million dollars later You feel the do' maker, nigga like me In this new millennium, the year 2G Who I be, S.U.C. my family to the end Hope I don't hit the Penn, but if I do it's on again [Hook x2] [Mr. 3-2:] Throwed off connected, and I'm from the old school I lay down the law, and what I say rules Start busting with the tool, on them niggaz who be hating Ain't nothing fly bout me, but my conversation Ask your lil' mama, or your main thang Bout Mr. 3-2, CEO of Street Game Let the AK's rain, fully automatic assault rifle Trying to get my life right, and live by the bible It's a thin line, between your body and a hundred pounds Today it's all good, tomorrow you six feet in the ground I'm out of town, with a broad that's fine looking jazzy While your whole family in black, carrying your casket [Hook x2] From Letras Mania