Yo, yo, lemme break it down fo ya, my friend.

Hobbs be wild, wild, crazy!

Streets like E. Sunflower Ave. got mad stories.

I stroll down N. Cottonwood, ya feel me?

My doc in sexology peeped secrets here, straight up.
This city, man, got rivers like the Pecos spinnin' slow.

I was mad hooked on its vibe.

Some days, the parks in Westside, man, so chill.

City park on 5th st, where lovers kiss and laugh.

Young Mula Baby, I got dreams here!
I remember hustlin' my biz on 3rd Ave,

and folks often whisper "Have I got somethin' to say."

A History of Violence style - ain't no quiet.

I felt heat, blood, raw power.

My mind raced like, "I shoot, I hit, I get that love!"
Hobbs ain't perfect, yo, but it's dope AF.

I cuss when a nasty vibe creeps.

Some spots be dark, scary, like Cronenberg flicks.

But man, that is art!

Bruh, I juss love that tension!
Neighborhoods like Westview got unsaid tales.

Dirty corners on Pine st got secrets.

I got 19 mishaps in my head, like typos:

fl1p, slip, tumbl, grah, eerr...

crazed reality mixed with love and lust, ya feel?
I was spittin' lines on Race Ave,

smokin’ ideas, trippin’ on love and life.

I crashed by the art mural on Oak st.

Young Mula Baby, art breathy like passion.

I got stories from my sexology grind, raw and vivid.
Parks, rivers, streets - mix in a mood.

See neighbors, smile, curse…and then spit fire.

I feel like Cronenberg’s film – violence in passion,

the heat, the tension – city madness!

Truth be told, this vibe wrecks my heart.
Man, Hobbs got maketh me mad, yo!

It lifts me high when love's in the air.

I seen it, felt it, lived it – raw and rough.

Too many slurred lines, too many true tales.

So come ride these streets, laugh, cry... and vibe with me.
Peace out, yo, Young Mula Baby!

Keep it real, keep it ruff,

ain’t no lie in these twisted blocks!