F/ H. C. P.

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[Dj Paul]

Yeah, H. C. P. Defeat does not exist in this Camp

Do you hear me it's goin down

Yhe niggaz who's sellin for real

Ya boys hurtin out there man

I see your sound scans we killin you baby

And we gon keep bringing this pain

And this motherfuckin bump in your motherfuckin speakers

[Dj Paul]

See I'm the number one killa for these bitch ass niggaz

Got guns got rope for a bitch ass nigga

Plastic bags, duck tape for a bitch ass nigga

Stolen cars, sellin hoes for a bitch ass nigga

S K's, double clips for a bitch ass nigga

40 cal. On the hip for a bitch ass nigga

Ridin Benz's shootin at you old bitch ass nigga

Hypnotize we allergic to a bitch ass nigga

Niggaz wanna talk shit you a kid to me

I'll fuck you up, real dog, its some killas with me

In the end you won't see me, just wait for my calls

Ill ride by shoot your momma's house up and all

And leave a motherfucker bleedin on the carpet

Walk right up to your bedroom window and don't stop it

Nigga you started, I won't when I brought you back

Momma dead in the Lexus, when you look back

[Crunchy Black]

Hold up my nigga

This is danger you is facing

Ima crank the fuckin chain saw

And cut you like Jason

Aint wastin no time

Ima go on head and let my smith and wesson

Gone shine my nigga, yall be hatin

Aint no hatin on me dog

Ima leave you layin in the motherfuckin street dog

Now catch this heat yall, lock it and release yall

I'm just tryin to keep some mutherfuckin peace dog

Yall Testin me

[Juicy J]

People always asking bout Project Pat

Did he get ten years, or did he time go flat

Well ima tell you like this, its a baller battle

Try to prosecute a nigga, probably taller than Shaq

Me and my brother been down, since the days a rap

Hangin out Cypress Garden tryin to sell the crack

Can't no money or no bitch can relate to that

Throught he good and the bad ima have his back

So ima tell you young niggaz in the streets today

That be standing on the block, smoke chokin that hay

The Police, Prosecutors are the enemies

Don't get caught up in that cross yo decsion you make

If I could turn back the hands of time, I would

And tell my big brother the gun ain't no good

He got one strike a felon, that's good


[Lord Infamous]

Its the heavyweight Champion chip of rap

I hope you did all your sit ups and ran your laps

Cause I'm ready for the whole damn ten round bout

Throw a jab left, up, right, to the map

And I don't think your boys gonna help you this time

Cause you done fucked around with the roll down kind

Got get a bump and grind gotta bump me the pine

Gotta nine to your spine, yo I gotta get mine

With that in mind, yo for what I am highly trained

Insane mane, and I gotta very good aim

So bring yo bandaids and your pain killers

We foe killer, type of niggaz

Best believe we keepin you injured

Even worse then you in pictures

So get buck if you really think you want to

Best believe Lord is gonna come back and haunt you

[Lil Wyte]

Calls it quits when you talk cause you spoke my name

Gotta switch when you walk, lookin like you a dame

Lil Wyte, yeah I rocked it when I entered the game

Cause Ima hussler on my bumpin for my fortune and fame

And its a blessin, not a question, being part of this Camp

Learn a lessin from this blessin you can't fuck with this Fam'

Youll come up missin when you glisten your lil wrist I'm not dissin

Until the center of attention, and your momma you listenin

And I'm the one bringing thunder to this sky you wonder

Fuck around wit a mugger and Ill then make you wonder

What happened to this little craker it was just marijuana

His shoes just got a little bigger, I just gonna warn you

That he was creepin from the slab, where the gat is packed

Pull a Cop killer bullets that'll pierce your back

I tried to save your soul and plus state the facts

But still bitch made motherfucker's get laid flat

[Frayser Boy]

Muthafucker c*** sucker you don't want none of this

Bitch pull a trigger tell a nigga fuckin wit this shit

Hcp best believe, bring the motherfuckin pain

Clickin on you, hittin on you, we ain't playin no games

Fuck you off, we the boss, got the city on lock

Glock my side, time of ride, Got the sawed bitch cocked

Wit a nigga makin moves, in this fuckin rap shit

Trigger pull it, get a bullet, cause you know I'm strapped bitch

Know a bunch of niggaz some real, some fake, some hate, Some trake

So I get them bitches out the way

Don't you test, be my guess, We gone bust the steal

Nigga one less, shoot less, tone to the head feel

Nigga what you wanna do dog

Bring the shit to the fan

Every stressin, got you goin down like quick sand

Frayser Boy, Rep of course, find me in the fuckin Bay

Slangin work, doin dirt, quickin wit the ak

Pass the gat and lets ride

Lord is in your house best go hide

Crunchy gon smack you cross the head wit the Tone

Juicy the type nigga you best leave lone

Paul ain't gone talk at all he gon blast

Fuckin wit this click you bitch you won't last

Much love to my nigga Pat and that's real

Lil Wyte reppin Bay with me don't get killed
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H.C.P Lyrics

Frayser Boy – H.C.P Lyrics