[Intro: Lounge Lo]
Yeah, yo, yea...
"Too ill.. too ill, I represent Park Hill" - Cappadonna sample 4X
Black, black man... what? That's how
That's how we doing it... yo Cap, what up son?

[Lounge Lo]
I'm politicking with the roughest, craziest, live muthafucka
The Killah Hill niggas that bring the ruckus
Rap connect, the theropist slang, ain't even bomb yet
'98, 19, you catch me on Saddam set
Blowing shit through the roof, with undercover root
With a big bad explosion like poof
Peace to fat Smooth from the Hot 9, God, pump up ya knob
By my entourage squad, convoy, we fifty cards
Hot squad ready to rock for C Wigs
Those my nigs, fucking with me, son, you know Diggs
I thought you will, cuz we get ill, like Park Hill
One love to my cousin on that twenty dollar bill
I walk the walk, city streets, had to feed
Twenty thugs, without of the slug, under my glove
Cuz everything is love love, so what the deal be
Can you feel me, representing, keep it real, see
I like it raw, Killa Hill 'jects since 25
But I've been to 24, the average won't survive
It's like the army in the ghetto, puff high and pack metal
Rollerskating flowerhead cupcakes that wanna get hope

[Chorus 4X: Ellie]
Don't you know, don't you know
"Too ill.. too ill, I represent Park Hill" - Cappadonna sample
Loungin' Lo, Loungin' Lo

[Lounge Lo]
Now I'm posted by the Ooh, hostler with my two tool
Conversating with Blue, twenty guards, plus my rifle gun salute
Parachute flutes, who wanna due
Like Bo and Luke, it's getting shot down with my nuclear
Earthquake, your whole block shake from the twelve guage
It's calico gun hawk, who walk with a skunk mate
Big boys hold they weight, yo I remember 5D
With Deck, Kase, Raid' and A.P.
And Shakuan, Parle, 2 Cent and L.G.
Cappadon', Kaze and G.C.
P.L.O. turban tied twisted tight
Yo, Streetlife, nigga, hit the staircase light
You got to get rich, hunting them ammo for grits
Eighteen cane, with shine rolly on the wrist
With a tennis brace', matching pinky ring, Louis neck-lace
My tech face'll have you sitting down on the set plate
For one time, wanna take my son for some time
Photograph on the online, just because you want crime
Two thousand under the scene, I let it be
Marinating with a crab tree, smoking on a bad leaf

[Chorus 4X]

[Lounge Lo]
I jelly through the city like the homeless on train
You know my name, Loungin' Lo from hanging out with Wu-Tang
You see me at the venue, now watch me get up in you
Coppin' bags at the menu, son, it really didn't matter
So what's the chit-chatter on that cat you want to splatter
Your verse, now watch me versus, and I'mma hurt that
And show you where my works at, your hot spot, burst that
Niggas still talking like bitches and hitting switches
These road to the riches, follow suit with my wishes
The thangs that I'm doing now, I never did
Like doing shows in bigger modes, instead of sling crack for kids
My tongue slip before, and how I sling shit again
To get to ten, but this time, it's me and my men, son
A thousand and one, big boy that hold a gun
O-6-1 style, politicking with son
I'm "too ill, I represent Park Hill" - Cappadonna sample

[Chorus 4X]