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bun-b

"Trill O.G." (2010)

Chuuch!!! Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. J. Prince)

Ah yeah
2010 and we still rolling
You know Bun
My dad used to tell me every time he thought he knew it all
Something new would come up
So at this time let's welcome
Drake, the newest member to the family
Whom my son, JS prince discovered
Make no mistake the army is behind ya
Now Bun I've been labeled as a quiet storm
And it maybe true
But I've been watching a genius at work on this album
And without further ado, yo pimp give us your blessings

Chuuch

Yeah
I'm back baby and better than I ever was
I got the streets on fire so forget a buzz
I ain't tripping on sounds scan a beat DS
It's easy to find with or without your GPS
And now we riding next
Biden or Obama
Go ask the hustlers, the gangsters, ask your mama
And they'll tell you the best that ever did it
Is still in here doing it, you can fuck with it
And I'm a hit it on the head with a hammer
Reppin H-town like five slam a jam
Am I hard enough, am I real enough, am I ready
Bro well you already know
On your march, set, ready, go

[Chorus:]
I came to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
I came to represent for the south
In the streets and in the booth
I came from the bottom to the top
And I'm out here doing my thang
So if you're trying to get it like I get it let the congregation sing

Yeah
We back baby and better then we ever was
It's UGK so quit acting like we never was
You see the group is too trill and in effect
If Rap-a-lot is rolling with us
We in to wreak
So ask Tip, ask Hova, ask Diddy
Go ask Yeezy, Jeezy, ask 50
And they'll tell you I'm through when I spit it
It's still in here doing it, you can't fuck with it
And I'm a hit it in the chest with the nina
Reppin H-Town like James Prince Senior
Am I hard enough, am I real enough, am I ready
Bro well you already know
On your march, set, ready, go

[Chorus:]
I came to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
I came to represent for the south
In the streets and in the booth
I came from the bottom to the top
And I'm out here doing my thang
So if you're trying to get it like I get it let the congregation sing

Yeah
It's back baby and better than it ever was
That dirty south shit
That you can only get from us
That H-town, slow down, drop the screw music
And it ain't going no where so get used to it
Go ask Trey, ask Paul Wall, ask Roll
Go ask Coppa, ask Slim, they already know
And they'll tell you they ready to represent it
It's still in here doing it, you can fuck with it
And I'm a hit 'em low, chop 'em at the knee
Reppin PAT like a young Pimp C
Am I hard enough, am I real enough, am I ready
Bro well you already know
On your march, set, ready, go

[Chorus: x2]
I came to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
I came to represent for the south
In the streets and in the booth
I came from the bottom to the top
And I'm out here doing my thang
So if you're trying to get it like I get it let the congregation sing

Trillionaire Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. T-Pain)

[Intro - T-Pain]
I know they hatin on me, 'cause I'm the man ('cause I'm the man)
I'm too trill homie (trill homie), I don't give a damn (I don't give a damn)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (I'm a self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)

From the underground to the top, I came from the bottom
Trill niggaz don't stop, man I'm goin harder
Self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (I'm a self made), trillionaaaaaire

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
Okay, let's get this shit crackalatin ('latin), no more procrastinatin ('natin)
They told me Bun don't hesitate, don't keep these bastards waitin (waitin)
I'm puttin egos at check and I'm so emasculatin ('latin)
People stop to stare and say "damn this nigga's fascinatin" ('natin)
We blowin 'dro up in the air, you smell it? That's the fragrance (fragrance)
I got the focus, got the heart and I got the patience (patience)
You hatin bitch, get off my dick, look like you on some gay shit (gay shit)
I'm tryin to take this to the mountain top, Appalachian ('lachian)
But it's a rocky road (road) and I'm still movin up
And ain't no movin us, so keep it pushin, get to movin bro (for real)
You might be new to me but you know I ain't new to ya
Go ask the white boys, they say he's totally tubular (dude)
Fuckin bad bitches, rub my dick against their uvula
Everytime I hit the streets, it's like a fuckin movie bro (damn)
You know what I do to ya, send gladiators through to ya
They gon' leave ya chopped up, like they was DJ Screwin ya, hold up

[Chorus 1 - T-Pain]
Yeah, I know they hatin on me (on me), 'cause I'm the man ('cause I'm the man)
I'm too trill homie (trill homie), I don't give a damn (I don't give a damn)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)

From the underground to the top, I came from the bottom
Trill niggaz don't stop, man I'm goin harder
Self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaaaaire

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
Okay, let's get this shit poppin off (off), from the go know I'm a boss (boss)
I don't fuck with lames and do my dirt nigga without a loss (loss)
I keep it pimpin, fly ass hoes come in and out the loft (loft)
When you get fettuccine, you don't need a lot of sauce (sauce)
I gets my Gucci on, my baby likes a lot of Prada (Prada)
She go and shop until she drop, she know Don Dada got her (got her)
But she not shotgun in the slab, oh no I got a shotter (shotter)
He keep that shotgun in the slab and roll without a nada (nada)
He keep his eyes wide open, he's a hater spotter (spotter)
And when they roll up on me wrong, then he's a hater dropper (dropper)
And he don't mess around when niggaz try to play Big Papa (Papa)
He keep it gangsta nigga, he go gone and sprayed the chopper (chopper)
'Cause I don't roll with fake people and I never will (will)
I represents the G code, to the lead steel (steel)
Don't make me have to draw down, when that Beretta peel (peel)
Then you gon' understand that Bun B is forever trill, hold up

[Chorus 2 - T-Pain]
Yeah, I know they hatin on me (on me), 'cause I'm the man ('cause I'm the man)
I'm too trill homie (trill homie), I don't give a damn (I don't give a damn)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)

From the underground to the top, I came from the bottom
Trill niggaz don't stop, man I'm goin harder
Self made (self made), trillionaire (trillionaire)
I'm a self made (self made), girl, do you swear to keep in gangsta?

[Verse 3 - Bun B (T-Pain)]
Gangsta than a motherfucker, trill until I D-I-E, fuck these other suckers
(What's your message to the fakers?)
They throwin rocks and hidin hands
It don't really matter, this the dirty South, we ridin man
(How long you been up on that trill shit?)
Since the day they made me and from a baby
Until today they never played me
(Well, throw your hands up)
From P.A.T. to your town, ain't no need to slow down
Baby boy, it's about to go down

[Chorus 1]

Just Like That Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Young Jeezy)

[INTRO]
Hahaha Just like that (yeah real shit nigga yea)
Jizzle H-town Bun (wassup) you had ta go fuck wit ya homie right (you know it jeezy)

[Chorus]
Yall gon gimme my respect cause I earned that even though its an expensive pound we still burn that new benz with the classic top yeah we cholos know them things come out in glass pots yea we solos

Just like that you know we bout that
Just like that you know we bout that
I said we bout that Yeah u know we bout that

[Bun B]
Say man I'm cleaner than a wistle nigga shaper than a sickle
My cadalliac is candy and my desert eagle nickle
Plated niggas hate it theres nothin they can say though when I hit em with the pressure they leakin out the play dough from way back in the day yo they know I put it down pocket full of stones got ya sewing up the town been at it since the 90's in the ghetto with them pounds and them bricks hittin licks and fillen heaters with them rounds paid the cost to be the boss I can show ya the reciept fo it Trillest in the game every nigga in the streets know it Bun B and Jizzle back in business cause the sign on thats what the fuck we got our mind on so grind on

[Chorus]
Yall gon gimme my respect cause I earned that even though its an expensive pound we still burn that new benz with the classic top yeah we cholos know them things come out in class yea we solos

Just like that you know we bout that
Just like that you know we bout that
I said we bout that Yeah u know we bout that

[Jeezy]
Sometimes I ask myself say jizzle how ya do it yea we know ya be about tha money yer persuin persue that paper like them yellow bricks from h town just take off the yellow tape now ya sellin h towns watch the beat break down long way from break town on my way to A town long way from h town bitch I'm bout that bitch you know I'm bout that they say he bout that swear I really doubt that you know I live love dis thug shit did some with kanye still talken drug shit even though its drug shit I'm still maken club shit bitch ya know I'm bout that and them bitches love this

[Chorus]
Yall gon gimme my respect cause I earned that even though its an expensive pound we still burn that new benz with the classic top yeah we cholos know them things come out in glass pots yea we solos

Just like that you know we bout that
Just like that you know we bout that
I said we bout that Yeah u know we bout that

[Bun B]
Thats right my mind is on my money and my fingers on a fat knot eyes is wide open and my ears is ta the black top came up in the trap spot posted with that crack rock from the streets to the studio now I got this rap locked back then they didn't want me but now they all up on me big lips they fall up on me dime bitches crawl up on me ya I used ta call ya homie now we just aquaintences you broke the g code nigga you need gangsta maintenence step ya game up matter fact get a escalader somebody call the swag police to come arrest this hater butter block or rari's and porsches with the double doors Jeezy UGK we hit ya with a double dose

[Chorus]
Yall gon gimi my respect cause I earned that even though its an expensive pound we still burn that new benz with the classic top yeah we cholos know them things come out in glass pots yea we solos

Just like that you know we bout that
Just like that you know we bout that
I said we bout that Yeah u know we bout that

Put It Down Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Drake)

[Bun B - Verse 1]
Now when it come to making money I’m a printing press
When it come to being Trill I’m a litmus test
I run it like a fitness test
And when it come to making history I’m like (?) son
A million ways to die you already chose one
A million dollars stacked it sounds like a good beginning
We on the top now go back and tell the hook we winning
And while ya there let em know we did it just for them
I made them cough the cash up and left them just the phlegm
Is that the King of the trill go tell em yes it’s him
And his testosterone is up who’s got the oestrogen
I like your girl and I think she like me even more
I hit her with that heave and ho and them I’m leaving bro
The dirty South’s finest and dirty south’s behind us
Now thats a plus on the report card not a minus
Keep your security blankets because I'm not your lighters
You got a problem with us you know its just as hard to find us

[Drake - Chorus]
Uhhh, since your telling on me
Tell the World bout me
Ask your girl about me, she probably tell you
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down
Every time I come around
Just bought a car, the n-gga Pimp owned it
I threw some tints on it
He would have loved it
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down

[Bun B - Verse 2]
They know I’m on a Port Arthur state of mind southern superstar status
I elevate the crime
My time is money so I put some money on my time
Lightening on the Breitling so exciting when you see that shine
We on that leather (?) before its never even thought of
I broke my bread and fed the team just like the Holy Father
I helped the blind to see and keep it G just like I oughta
The only thing thats left for us to do is walk on water
We playing all four quarters til the clock expire
So til I see the ref waving I will not retire
My flow is still official and I still got the fire
Can’t take your eyes off me, like when you watch the wire
And in ‘0-10 we finna go in
So let the opposition know there is no win
And I am no friend so put your hand down
Tell em stand down before it’s man down

[Drake - Chorus]
Uhhh, since your telling on me
Tell the World bout me
Ask your girl about me, she probably tell you
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down
Every time I come around
Just bought a car, the n-gga Pimp owned it
I threw some tints on it
He would have loved it
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down

[Drake - Verse 3]
I gotta hundred girls on each phone
Drissy Drake man, young sweet Jones
I never cheat unless you count the girls I cheat on
I know you can’t bring every single one you meet home
Home sick just when I thought I was sick of home
Losing track of time everyday we switching zones
Drizzy Hendrix I’m just backstage getting stoned
Thank Me Later man, a million copies shipped and gone
Overboard n-gga I’m quoting more n-gga
Results are in I guess you should have voted more n-gga
Swimming in the money y’all just float ashore n-gga
Never drowning what the f-ck you think this boat is for n-gga
Yeah I’m quick to take an RnB diva out
I’ll bring some friends she’ll bring some friends that know what we about
And when it’s done I’ll put some slippers on and see them out
And tip the driver to make sure he take the scenic route
I swear these women living like they tryna write a book after
But I’m just trying to keep it G for my chapter
Listen to my words, see just what I mean
Rest in peace to Chad Butler everyday I’m riding clean
Ohhh

[Drake - Chorus]
Uhhh, since your telling on me
Tell the World bout me
Ask your girl about me, she probably tell you
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down
Every time I come around
Just bought a car, the n-gga Pimp owned it
I threw some tints on it
He would have loved it
Put it down, put it down
You know how I put it down, put it down.

Right Now Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Pimp C, 2Pac, Trey Songz)

[Pimp C]
UHH, she got the whole, world, in her jaws
when she feel it tighten up, don't stop and don't pause
I got the whole, game, in my head
Don't fuck for recreation but I'm good in the bed (good in the bed)
Tony Snow, I keep big blow (blow!)
My homeboy gal wanna fuck me on the low (low!)
But I don't wanna 'less she goin out on the grind
Check-in with the choosin fee and I'ma knock her from be-hiiiind (knock her from be-hiiiind)
I make a bitch bleed to black
wit a certified knot and a platinum cock
The pimpin didn't stop, even when the bids died
We just kept on gettin high, puttin dick up in they eye
Dick up in they ears (ears), dick up in they nose (nose)
Ass, pussy, mouth, I'm fin' ta fuck in every hole (hole)
Put it between they titties and between they toes
That's how a gushy gush out when ya bitch get chose

[Chorus: Trey Songz]
You know, and I know, we need to geeeeeet riiiiiiight
I'ma call you, and i'm comin through after miiiiiid-niiiiight
So be ready, to get sweaty, speed up or sloooooow dooooown
You want it, get up on it, it's 'bout to goooooo dooooown right now

[2Pac]
Eternally thug nigga, Hilfiger made by Tommy
So when I speak, hope to reach my boricua mamis
Oh, come to papi, I love it when it's wet and sloppy
In and out the mouthpiece until I cum, no one can stop me
My bump and grind'll do ya everytime
Come get a blast of this thug passion that'll blow your mind - hey!
Throw up yo' legs, wrap them shits around my back
It's a Westside thang fuckin hoes around the map
Walkin down 125 while I'm peepin down hotties
and they, seduce my jimmy, out and screamin, "Gimme body!"
Make 'em all scream my name out, gimme my props
And don't cha, love how this THUG nigga, be at the cot
I'm at the Rican Parade, I'm watchin caramel bitches play
Get with real niggaz, bullshit'll never get you paid
This is the DREAM of a young black teen
I fiend for hoes cross country like a greedy crack fiend, now c'mon!

[Chorus w/ Songz ad-lib]

[Bun B]
Look here shawty, lemme tell you what the game is (game is)
And while I'm at it, lemme tell you what my name is (What?)
Bun Beeda, big D up in my drawls
When I pull out my piece, it make the girls all pause
Y'allz, niggaz, better recognize
when ya bitch choose me, shouldn't come as a surprise (nope)
Knew she was a freak, I could see it in her eyes (yep)
And I'ma bring it out her when I get between her thighs
God-damn~! That's what you call a home-run
I knock it out the park when I give her a long one (a long one)
It's on, I'm ready, it's strong, it's steady
First I'ma, give it some bacon and beat up the belly
When the sheets start shippin and the bed starts rockin
and the headboard's bangin, playa don't come knockin
It's a grown folks party, we don't need no kids
and I ain't tryna blow you up, but gurl yo' pussy the sheeeeit!

[Chorus w/ Songz ad-libs]

[Trey Songz - Outro]
Bun Beeda, Pimp C, 2Pac and me
S-O, N-G, Z
Bun Beeda, Pimp C, 2Pac and me
S-O, N-G, Z

Countin' Money Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Yo Gotti, Gucci Mane)

[Intro]
Fuck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha birds [X4]
[Over intro - Gucci Mane (Yo Gotti)]
Yo, it's Gucci, brrrr, R.I.P. Pimp C mane, brrrr
(This that straight my, straight my)

[Chorus]
Money all day, count money all day
Count money all day, count money all, money all
Count money all day, count money all day, count money all
Money all, money all, money all day

[Bun B - Verse 1]
Say mane, no matta where I go, no matter what I do
If chillin' wit' myself, or ballin' wit' my crew
The skies is lookin' cloudy or Bahama water blue
I got that money on my mind, so tell me what it do
And if you be like me, then you already knew it
We goin' for the money then we goin' right through it
Take it to the table baby, chop it up and screw it
'Cause it ain't nothin' to it where come from, but to do it
We get it in our hands, and then it go right through the fingas
We standin' on the system in a fresh set of swangas
We pop a couple tags, put some fresh up on the hangas
That everyday struggle and can't nair nigga change us
Believe that I was famous 'fore I ever did a song
Believe I had a poppin' 'fore a label put me on
It's 2010 and I ain't seein' nothin' wrong
But niggas countin' money all day fuckin' long

[Chorus]

[Yo Gotti - Verse 2]
Money totin', pistol carrying young nigga thugged out
Very first song I ever dropped was in a drug house
Razor blades, sandwich bags, Louis shoes, stoopid swag
Rubberbands, duffle bags, small bills, trash bags
Apple chain on my neck, you know that cost stoopid cash
Maserati for the wash, that's that foolish cash
Penitentiary chances, '6's on a muscle car
Bun helped me keep it real and watch it take me far
My money don't fold, this money here
I ain't make it for no hoes, I ain't get this off of shows
Count money all day, count money all night
Just know I'm wit' my paper, so I got my paper twice
I been on wit' out my paper, so I sleep wit' it at night
Now I wake up wit' to my paper so I start my day off right
They call me Cocaine Gotti, and it's money over bitches
Mr. Everything White, he be always in the kitchen

[Chorus]

[Gucci Mane - Verse 3]
It's me Gucci
I'm the shit bitch you smell me
Ain't no need to check ya sneakers
Three bricks, plus a split wit' me, then bitch you got a hit
Big money on my leisure, pop bottles wit' top models
Wit' my goons in Puerto Rico, yo' girlfriend I'ma freak her
Believe me I'm a giant, leave it to the lemurs(?)
I only see my paper plus my cojan on the Sanyo
The hottest rapper that you know, people look like Cujo (Gucci)
I get a thousand million ties and sold your guys for uno
So tune into East Atlanta, please don't change the channel ma
Roll the windows down back up
In my Phantom show my automa
Hangin' out my partner, naw
Don't you want this autograph?
Thinkin' that you angry 'cause my neck look like the Mardi Gras

[Chorus]

Speakeasy Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Twista & Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis)

[Intro: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
Please settle downs, everybody sit down
Sit down for a second, Mildred!
Mildred, get yo' goddamn feet off the table
(It's a Big E beat!) C'mon now, shit
This is, this is why we don't ever have nothin man
It's a good evenin here, Ceddy St. Louis
This right here about to bring to the stage
is a gentleman from Port Arther, Texas
Real gentleman, real singer, real story teller
Real gangsta, a true veteran of the bid'ness
Y'all show him some love, talk to 'em Bun

[Bun B]
Thank y'all for comin to see me this evenin (yeah)
Cookin this cajun I laced it with seasonin (huh)
In here, I been here and don't plan on leavin
The king of the trill's 'bout to pass, who's receivin?
I'm throwin, I'm throwed on, the mic I explode
Slow all that bangin mayne just like my load
Don't test me or stress me, I'm in that mode
where I could just black out and leave yo' ass flo'ed
Benzes and Beamers I drove 'em and slabbed 'em
Big booty hoes I exposed 'em and grabbed 'em
Take 'em right out of they clothes and I have 'em
They pussy is golden (what) my dick is platinum
And hard as a diamond, I'm hard when I'm rhymin
I'm closer to God, like Eric B. I'm in
that get money frame of mind, any day and time
That's what this is and shit ain't no shame in mine

[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

[Bun B]
Back on that bullshit so bring in the cattle
Ready for war so let's get to the battle
Niggaz is babies with bottles and rattles
The street lights is on, it's your curfew, ske-daddle
That all you got G? You comin up short
You ain't got the muscle, you ain't got the heart
You need actin classes, you can't play the part
Yo' mind ain't on money you need to get smart
I'm known to spit darts that'll land in the center
Right in the red for the breadwinner in her
Stack in the summer, the ball in the winter
I'm grippin that wood (shit) just got a splinter
You's a beginner, a novice, a rookie
How you got bricks when you can't cop a cookie?
We after paper, you after the nookie
You bet against me and you lost, pay the bookie

[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

[Twista]
Twista~!
They can never run in my shoes, they know nothin 'bout the ones and the twos (nope)
Murder to the drums when I bruise, Twista killin them with Bun and the Blues (yup)
Competition better study harder cause I feel like we done found another tune (tune)
They gon' try to to be like Muddy Waters, I'ma be the man howlin at the moon (arooo!)
Comin up and standin on my stack (stack) a veteran but keep my lyrics dope (dope)
And you still listen out the ride (ride) I ain't even got a car note (nope)
Y'all ain't snappin cause you wicked crushed and I'ma get 'em, I could tell her (tell her)
Fall dash rapper when you tell 'em bust, he can even spit the a cappella ('pella)
He can even come right off the top (no) he don't kill 'em even though he crumb (no)
He can only kill 'em in the studio when somebody can help him make a song (yeah)
Ask me why I don't hear it, I told ya
It's nothin but bullshit lyrics in yo' folder (ha ha!)
On the blues we come colder, Bun B's a boa
constrictor, Twista inflicts the pain of a cobra
Flame and I'ma show ya, the remains of a soldier
Down home blues killin niggaz in the game, 'til it's over

[Outro: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

Lights, Cameras, Action Lyrics – Bun-B

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
Well it's Bun B performin live, one night only (one night only)
Come on through and kick it with your trill homie
Showtime's midnight, we ready as we gonna be (be)
A packed house and you know it's all on me (me)
You've seen the flyers, zone in the mix, now you wanna get in the mix
It's cool, get in line and get ya tixs (tixs)
But don't forget to buy your VIP pass
So you can get a picture (picture), soon as you see me pass (me pass)
And when we pull up to the back door
And they know the King of the trill is in the building, it's a wrap bro
Go DJ, let 'em know we in the house
It's official, we came to turn it out, no doubt

[Chorus - Bun B]
We need lights (lights), so you can see me live on stage
We need cameras (huh), put me on your Facebook page
We need action (what?), happens when you pass me the mic
And I can give the people just what they like
Well alright

We need lights (lights), cameras, action, it's on
We need lights (lights), cameras, action, it's on
We need lights (lights), cameras, action, it's on (action, it's on)
O-o-on (on), o-o-on (on)

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
We in the dressing room posted
Drinks in the air get toasted, sweets in the air get roasted
Promoters askin for a signed poster
Take a picture with my wife, get a little closer (little closer)
Now say "cheese" (cheese), we smile, wait a second, laugh (laugh)
I ain't trippin (trippin), long as I got my second half (half)
And Below's noddin (noddin) and Nina's all good
So I pour some "II Trill", take a shot to the noggin
Couple Texans in the house (house), some Rockets and some 'stros too (too)
They representin for the city like they 'sposed too (too)
I hear the opening act, it's on it's last song
Gladiators buy 'em up, time to mash on

[Chorus - w/ ad libs]

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
Alright y'all, it's about that time (about that time)
The DJ tells the crowd yo and he ain't lyin (he ain't lyin)
This is the moment that we all been waitin on
Real recognize real, nobody got they hatin on
It's showtime and the venue off the chain (chain)
Wall to wall people and they crunk for me mayne (crunk for me mayne)
We backstage gettin ready for the crowd
Ask 'em who they wanna see, they say my name real loud (loud)
They make me feel proud after all these years
We can still pack the place, hearin all these cheers (cheers)
Say a little prayer as I drop to one knee (knee)
Comin to the stage, give it up for Bun B

[Chorus]
["give me the mic" instead of "pass me the mic"]

[Outro]
[Crowd chants "Bun B!" into next song]

I Git Down 4 Mine Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro]
[Crowd chants "Bun B!" for first 10 seconds]

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
I do this shit for Pimp C bitch (bitch), so what the fuck is up? (up)
Step roll niggaz still take your fuckin nuts (nuts)
UGK "4 Life" nigga (nigga), none shife nigga (nigga)
And you can get it by the pistol or the knife nigga (nigga)
No more days bitch, I ain't got the time
I got bitches on my dick (dick) and money on my mind (mind)
The South is on my back (back), I told it like Atlas
And you can never pack this (why?), you ain't had the practice
Crack shit, street talk, hood life, thug shit
All that and then some, started this drug shit
Cookies - we cooked that, highway - we did that
Paper - we stacked that, bodies - we hid that
Rich wrapped and packed up and stamped with the logo (with the logo)
Now we got it hoppin just like a pogo, poppin like the popo (damn)
Word to my D.C. niggaz on Go-go
Ask 'em, they know bro (fo sho)

[Chorus - Bun B]
'Cause you know what it is (is), you ain't got to ask (ask)
We gettin down to biz (biz), nigga do the math (math)
Somebody check the clock (clock) and tell 'em what the's time (time)
'Cause I'm a trill nigga (bitch), I get down for mine (mine)
I get down for mine (mine), I get down for mine (mine)
'Cause I'm a trill nigga (bitch), I get down for mine (mine)
I get down for mine (mine), I get down for mine (mine)
'Cause I'm a trill nigga (bitch), I get down for mine

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
Primetime player (player), first class flyer (flyer)
High life liver, luxury good buyer
I'm a modern day pariah ('riah), tell it like Richard Pryor (Pryor)
And won't stop rockin 'til I retire ('tire)
So call me 'siah, the Underground King (King)
I'm known to let 'em hang to the floor, it ain't a thing (thing)
The first one to swing (swing), the first one to bang (bang)
These pussy niggaz sweet, I think they sippin on the Tang (Tang)
Dang, that's when "keepin it real goes wrong" (wrong)
Singin the same old song, take off your thong (thong)
Say you wanna get like me, then try harder (try harder)
It's more than just some gangsta Nikes and a Starter (and a Starter)
You got a father? I know he ain't proud (proud)
He probably wished he would of pulled out, no doubt (no doubt)
You've been a bitch since birth, no lie (lie)
And you gon' be a bitch on the day that you die (that you die)

[Chorus]

[Break - Bun B]
I get down for mine (for mine)
I get down for mine (for mine)
I get down for mine (for mine)
I get down for mine (mine)

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
You motherfuckers ain't ready for the return of original trillness (naw)
Imitated, never duplicated on some real shit (shit)
I pull your card, then I pull the steel (steel)
And then I pop it, now tell me how them bullets feel (feel)
Kneel (kneel), bitches say I got that whip appeal ('peal)
When they see me ridin on candy, grippin wheel (wheel)
Oh (oh), not goin for bad, bitch I'm goin for broke (broke)
And you already know it's fire when you see the smoke (smoke)
You already know it's fire even before we spoke (spoke)
And you know you gonna see the gun fire when he loc (loc)
And like a beast spoke, splash on 'em and smash on 'em
Then fire up the swishy sweet and leave the ash on 'em
'Cause Bun B is a winner, put your cash on 'em
Or cash out, 'cause I'm layin his ass out (out)
Soon as I pass up (up), that's when they pass out
Nigga I'm the first goin in and I'm the last out (out)

[Chorus]

Snow Money Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro - Bun B - talking]
Say mayne, I had this pussy ass nigga come up to me the other day
You know what I'm sayin?
Talkin 'bout "say Bun B
Bun B you gon' rep for P-A on this album?"
I said "you bitch ass nigga, I am P-A, who the fuck is you nigga?
Know what I'm sayin?
Everybody know I rep for Port Arthur, Texas to the fullest
Who the fuck know you nigga?
Don't nobody know you but your mama ho ass nigga
Move around nigga
I'm some on P-A shit, know what I'm talkin 'bout?"

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
P-A trill nigga, I was born ready bro
Our here on the grind, rain or shine, for the fetti bro
Work comin in and movin out with the steady flow
Boys out of line, pull the thing out, let it go
Always G'd out, blacked out, from my head to toe
And it ain't a question that I be out to get the dough
Call up my connect, get the powder in from Mexico
Late night, come across the border in the Chevy ho
Get it for the low, if you need a plug, let me know
I get it from him, you come to me for the petty coke
That's the way the cycle go around like a merry go
Round, put it down for my town, they already know
Every time I try to get away, I can't let it go
Plush lifestyle, fly cars and the pretty hoes (pretty hoes)
So play your distance by scenario (what's up?)
Load up the van, let's hit the highway, here we go (here we go)

[Chorus - Bun B]
We hit the road and get the snow money
Bring it home, take it to the mall, blow money
Hit the strip club, take it out, throw money
Then get back up on the road and get mo' money
Mo' money, mo' money, money, mo' (mo')
Mo' money, mo' money, money, mo' (mo')
Mo' money, mo' money, money, mo' (mo')
Mo' money, mo' money, money, mo' (mo')

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
You know it's "UGK 4 Life" and I'm a ride for that
Disrespect the game and I can't let you slide for that
It don't really matter where ya people try to hide ya at
'Cause I'm a find ya, pull up behind ya, apply the MAC
Milli on the really, (I'm a G), bonafide for that
Talkin down on the Underground, you get denied for that
Where I come from, lot of pussy niggaz died for that (where?)
Port Arthur, Texas, I got a lot of pride for that (huh)
So when we hit the road, haters better hide your hat (why?)
We hittin licks with them bricks and them ninety packs (damn)
I hit this over twenty bro, it ain't no lie to that
Sting 'em for 300K and now I got to ride it back (so what ya doin?)
I'm lookin for the laws, where ya hidin at? (I see 'em)
Pull me over, I'm the decoy, fly for that (let's go)
Oh yeah, I'll take the speeding ticket, where ya sign for that?
'Cause the dope and money never in the car I'm ridin at (ride it back)

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
And now we back up in the hood, where we 'sposed to be
In the back, countin up them stacks that we 'sposed to see
Pussy ass niggaz (niggaz), ain't even gettin close to me (at all)
They know I'd have they mama prayin with a rosary (for real)
And I'm a put another hole where they nose should be
If they ever think of the position of opposin me (damn)
A couple rounds plus a thought that probably froze 'em
we gon' lay a nigga down 'cause we (Feenin) like we Jodeci (hold up)
They on the streets talkin 'bout that they exposin me (what?)
Exposin what? I'm a open book, close it G (close it)
You talkin tough but we know you just posin see
And I'm a leave 'em stiffer than a mannequin (with holes in he)
You ain't friends, then you foes with me
And we can go to war definitely nigga, not supposedly
I'm not your average, I'm the chosen G
And if your money ain't snow money, best to get it frozen G ('cause we)

[Chorus]

Ridin' Slow Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Slim Thug, Play-N-Skillz)

[Intro - Chopped and Screwed Voice (echo)]
Hold up mayne
I know you ain't think we wouldn't fittin to come through with somethin
for the slab
You must be crazy nigga
You know we come down, this Texas nigga
That's off the top ho
Hold up, that some shit that'll shake the sidewalk right there
Dang, you pop this trunk
Bang down this block (Play-Play-Play-Play-Play-N-Skillz)
Beat 'em down right quick mayne

[Chorus - Play-N-Skillz (Bun B) - w/ ad libs]
I'm ridin slow
(I'm in the slab, swangin up the Ave.)
I'm ridin vogues
(Sittin on leather with my shit together)
I'm ridin fo's
(I'm doin dirty while I'm "Ridin' Dirty")
I'm ridin slow
(Sittin on buck and I don't give a fuck, so bitch, what's up?)

Beep, beep, so they can see when I'm rollin through the hood
Beep, beep, so they can see how a player grips his wood
Beep, beep, I bet they see that now I'm livin good
(Grippin the grain, drippin the stain)
I'm ridin slow

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
Texas, land of the swang (swang), where boys pop trunk and bang (bang)
Come down in a candy thang, hittin that switch (switch), lettin 'em hang
Hit me a stang, maybe a lick (lick)
Pound of the brown, maybe a brick (brick)
Burn that purp inside of the 'gar
With a bad ass bitch inside of the car (car)
C to the A, D to the I (I), L to the L to the A to the C (C)
B to the U to the N to the B, reppin that P to the A to the T (to the T)
I'm a dirty South representer, summertime, spring to the fall to the winter
O.G. in the game, no beginner, don't take a loss (loss), get with a winner
Lobsters on my plate for dinner (dinner)
And your bitch is the midnight snack (snack)
Break her off when I'm layin up in her (in her)
When I'm done I'm a send her right back (back)
Iced out chain (chain), frozen wrist (wrist), grip that grain when I close this fist
Diamonds up against the wood in the hood and I can't be missed

[Chorus - w/ ad libs]

[Verse 2 - Slim Thug]
Huh, huh, huh
I'm ridin slow, eyes slow, from what I smoke and po'
If you ain't smokin 'dro, then what the fuck you smokin fo'?
With my deposit Thug about to give the world a show (huh)
You know the truck gon' glow (glow), you know them screens gon' show (show)
You know the fifth gon' fall (fall), you know them fo's gon' crawl (cheah)
You know that Texas got to show y'all how we like to ball (huh)
My trunk knockin, got 'em watchin like I'm on a stage (I know you see me)
Them four fifteens sound like lions bustin out a cage
I'm gettin paid, been ridin clean since the 'leventh grade
No more braids now, I'm razor on my taper-fade (yeah)
I got it made, went to Ike and I got it sprayed
Now when I park where it's dark, you can't see the shade (huh)

[Chorus - w/ ad libs]

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
Man, there's a road through the city
Leather so soft (soft), paint so pretty
Wheels so shiny, rims so new
When I hit your hood (hood), what you gon' do? (gon' do)
Fall back and break bread with a G though (G though)
Might come down, not like me though (me through)
Underdog like To' and Beedo (Beedo)
Big cheese on me like a Cheeto (Cheeto)
ooh wee though, I'm the throwdest (throwdest)
But I guess you already know this
J's the freshest, chain the coldest
Hard to miss (miss), easy to notice
Watch me to show this, easy as pie
Bad ass broad, easy on the eye
I'm so clean and she's so fly
Man we so player and that's no lie
When we come through (through), pass on by
If you gon' hate, take your ass on by
Sittin on top of the world
So really don't need nobody to crash my high (my high)
On buck with the stitch and tuck (tuck)
These boys know I'm not givin a fuck (fuck)
Try to step and get stuck
So don't press your luck, what's up?

[Chorus - w/ ad libs]

I'm ridin slow ...
I'm ridin slow ...

Let 'Em Know Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro]
R.I.P. Guru
GangStarr 4 Life
Goddamn, Primo!
Long time comin, baby
History in the making
It's goin down, talk to 'em, Preem

[DJ Premier cuts and scratches]
"Say, this here, Pimp C
We fuckin wit Primo, it-it-it's, it's goin down, baby"
"My mic is loud and my production is tight" - [Big L]
"We run shit!" "I ain't playin witchu!"

[Verse 1]
Okay, Bun is on the mic, Premier's on the track
The South is in the house, now what can fuck wit that?
And what can fuck wit this? I take shots and don't fuckin miss
First on your baby mama bucket list
You on some sucka shit, might as well suck a dick
'Cause you bein a bitch just for the fuck of it
And when I fuckin spit, niggaz get to tuckin shit
Tryna duck down wherever they can fuckin get
They better ask somebody
'fore I have Big Truck pass the shotty and blast somebody, bitch!
Mastered the flow, the gun and the hand game
Now I'm resurrectin a REAL nigga campaign
Fake ass niggaz, we snatch 'em out the damn rain
Take they damn chain, hit 'em with the damn thang
BANG! Now that's what happen when the trigger blow
Aiyyo Premier, let a motherfuckin nigga know!

[Chorus: DJ Premier cuts and scratches]
"Say, this here, Pimp C
We fuckin wit Premo, it-it-it's, it's goin down, baby"
"My mic is loud and my production is tight" - [Big L]
"We run shit!" "I ain't playin witchu!"
"Say, this here, Pimp C
We fuckin wit Primo, it-it's goin... down, baby"
"My mic is loud and my production is tight" - [Big L]
"We run shit!" "I ain't playin witchu!"

[Verse 2]
Okay, Bun is on the mic, Premier's on the track
The South is in the house, now what can fuck wit that?
And who can fuck wit me? You not built up
I'll break ya bitch-ass down and leave you filled up
See that's how blood get spilled up, 'cause you all grilled up
And got the hammer on you, but it's still tucked
'Cause you scared to pull it, even mo' scared to POP
You ain't a gangsta, you need to stop
I'm a type of nigga pull up at a evening spot
Squeeze and pop niggaz 'til they weave and drop, ock!
You the type that gotta call in the goons
I come one deep, strapped like an army platoon
When I get to (Gladiatin') on haters like Leonidas
Niggaz gonna have to admit that he the tightest
You talk a big game mayne, but mine's bigger bro
Aiyyo Premier, let a motherfuckin nigga know!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Okay, Bun is on the mic, Premier's on the track
The South is in the house, now what can fuck wit that?
And who can fuck wit us? Better bring your mic game
Mike Jordon, Mike Tyson, Big Mike mayne
Big dough, big flow, big fight game
Take you out the zone, put you in the right frame
Take you out yor home, middle of the night mayne
Wrap you up tight, put yo' ass on the night train
That's right mayne, and it's the right time
In the right game to get rich like a white mayne
Tryna see how much paper that I might gain
While I still keep it trill in what I write, mayne
Yeah, so let's see who we could trouble most
by hittin these haters with a double dose
Toast! We got it locked like a figure-fo'
Aiyyo Premier, let a motherfuckin nigga know!

[Chorus]

[Outro]
BITCH! Yeaaah!
PA to PV, nigga
Bun Beeda, DJ Premier
Legends, in the, game
You don't know? Now you know, bitch!
Threw ya hoe-ass around, while real niggaz come down
Hah! Yeaaah!
Premo, I was waitin on that shit, nigga
I been waitin on this shit since "DJ Premier was in Deep Concentration"
Hahaha, my motherfuckin nigga
Love you, boy
Real rap shit, real nigga shit
We GONE! [echoes]

All A Dream Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. LeToya)

(J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League, J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League)

[Chorus - Bun B - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs and Notorious B.I.G. sample]
It was all a dream, thinkin 'bout the fortune and fame
Hopin one day I could get in the game
It was all a dream, wishin for the money and cars
And to live the lifestyle of the stars
It was all a dream, livin through the struggle and pain
Tryin not to fall out of the frame
It was all a dream, until I seen my dream come true
Now I'm a make it do what it do
'Cause it was all a dream

[Verse 1 - Bun B - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs throughout]
I'm from the hood player, check my stats
I grew up in the ghetto with the roaches and the rats (and the rats)
We used to shoot basketball through a bike rim (rim)
Lookin at Jordan, wantin to be like him (him)
Syrup sandwiches, sugar water drink (drinks)
I look back at my past and man I got to think (think)
Of where I came from (from) and what I've been through (through)
'Cause for some man, the saga still continues ('ues)
I remember, my days as a young'n
The alley ways and back streets we used to run in
Who knew back then that some would kill
and some would die? 'Cause on the real

[Chorus - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs and Notorious B.I.G. sample]

[Verse 2 - Bun B - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs throughout]
I'm from the hood player, check my photos (my photos)
I used to be up all night on no doze (on no doze)
I had a dollar and a destiny (destiny)
And everyday man, the streets kept testin me (testin me)
With peer pressure (pressure) and even poverty (poverty)
But see I can't stop now, man there's got to be
A better life for me (life for me), I want the glory
But they won't give it to me and they won't do it for me (do it for me)
So I'm a pray on it and give it up to God (God)
Then wipe myself off, get up and go hard (hard)
I lost a lot of good friends on the way
That's why I'm tryin harder every day

[Chorus - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs and Notorious B.I.G. sample]

[Verse 3 - Bun B - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs throughout]
I'm from the hood player, check my pedigree (pedigree)
And nowadays man, I'm tryin to be a better me (better me)
You see I'm older (older) and even smarter now (smarter now)
So I got to hold my son and my daughter down (daughter down)
And I'm a always keep it real with my kids (my kids)
So they don't have to go through what I did (I did)
'Cause they can climb higher than we ever climbed (ever climbed)
And they can shine brighter than we ever shined (ever shined)
See the next generation is the future (future)
And yeah the game's a little different than you're used to (used to)
But don't give up, just stay true
'Cause if I did it, than you can too

[Chorus - w/ LeToya Luckett ad libs and Notorious B.I.G. sample until the end]

It's Been A Pleasure Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Drake)

Gladiator Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Truck Buck)

[Intro - Truck Buck - talking]
The spirit of Pimp is in here (yeah)
Truck Buck (uh huh), never give a fuck (yeah)
6300 Westside Port (haha)
Southwest Superman (already)
Yeah, Trill Gladiators (mayne)
Yeah huh, yeah, goons catch ya in the street (yeah)
Gladiators we come to your house like Pimp say (no shit)
Uh huh and guess what? (what?)
We ain't doin it for no money (what you doin it for nigga?)
Haha, we doin this for loyalty nigga
Tell them niggaz Bun

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
They thought it was over, they thought that I was done (I was done)
They said I wouldn't last, I'm the last one (last one)
I'm "Still Standing" like the Goodie to the Mo-B
In a black hoodie, it's the O.G., you know me (me)
Never bow to no feet or kiss no rings (rings)
Hold my own ground, never doin ho things (things)
Just to get accepted (accepted), just to be included ('cluded)
Nigga I am from the South, that ain't how we do it (do it)
True shit, you and your city must be on some new shit
Gettin on my last nerve, such a damn nuisance
Pussy niggaz on the rag, wearin Couture or Juicy
You don't like what I say, fuck ya nigga, that's my two cents
Opinions is like assholes and I don't like assholes
So stick your opinion in your ass ho (in your ass ho)
That's for whoever ain't me
You just hatin on a nigga that ya know ya can't be

[Chorus - Bun B]
I'm a, gladiator, greater than the rest
Bring who ever's won a battle, you'll never be the best
Got a chest made of metal, a jaw made of steel
When I put the hands of God on ya, tell me how it feels

I'm a, gladiator, hardest of the G's
Bring the biggest you can find, bet I drop him to his knees
I bring it to ya now, fuck bring it to ya later
And never take no shit up off a hater, 'cause I'm a gladiator

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
Now make way for the big man (man)
'Fore somebody catch a smack from the big hand (hand)
Rap-a-Lot is in the building and we in control ('trol)
"II Trill" comin through nigga, make a hole (make a hole)
And we ain't askin you but one time
Give a fuck if you pedestrian or the one time (time)
Nigga you can walk the gauntlet or the gun line
We can light the night sky up, like it's sunshine (shine)
'Cause I run mine (mine), this is native turf (turf)
And we'll squeeze and toss a nigga like he made of Nerf (made of Nerf)
He's playin games like it's Fisher Price (Price)
They gonna find your ass gutted with a fishing knife (fishing knife)
See now you gotta ask yourself a question
Is he really serious or was he just testin? (testin)
I hope your answer ain't the latter
'Cause I think you just made a mad motherfucker madder

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
And I don't want to be nobody but
Never dick ride or see me swingin on nobody nuts (nuts)
Real hood nigga (nigga), real street nigga (nigga)
That'll stand up on his own two feet nigga (nigga)
Never been a bitch, never had a plan to be (be)
And talkin down on other niggaz ain't the man in me (me)
A man walk it (walk it), exactly like he talk it
We can swing it or stalk it 'til somebody white chalk it
You don't want a problem pussy nigga (nigga), so don't bring us up
Actin like you niggaz hard or twistin your fingers up (up)
'Cause you be bluffin in the streets
I let the dogs out, then I let the hogs out, 'til it's nothin in the street
There is nothin industry or Hollywood about me (about me)
I'm no studio gangsta (gangsta) but if you want to doubt me (doubt me)
Then catch me on the corner (corner) and run up if you wanna (wanna)
To kill your pussy ass will be a motherfuckin honor, 'cause

[Chorus]

[Outro - Truck Buck - talking (Bun B)]
Yeah, yeah, ya hear me bitch ass niggaz?
Uh huh, any nigga talkin shit, we comin to see ya (gladiator)
Picnics, to ya house, barbecues, yeah
Anywhere, clubs, tell him who comin Bun (gladiator)

Sext Me Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Just Brittany, Candi Redd, Surreal, Troublesum & RawLT)

[Intro: Just Brittany]
Aaaahhh!
Aaaah! [beat starts]

[Chorus: Just Brittany]
I'm lookin' sexyyy. - I'm feeli'n sexyyy.
You wanna sex meee? - Then take a picture, baby text meee!
You wanna freak me? All you gotta do is Tweet meee!
But don't you trick me, baby treat meee!

I'm lookin' sexyyy. (sexyyyyyy!) - I'm feelin' sexyyy. (sexyyyyy!)
You wanna sex meee? - Then take a picture, baby text meee!
You wanna freak me? All you gotta do is Tweet meee! (Tweet meeeeee!)
But don't you trick me, baby treat meee!

[Verse 1: Bun B]
Yeah, well this is dedicated to the opposite sex, it's for
All the lonely ladies with no man lyin' next to ya!
Need a real Trill man to rub and caress ya, ('ress ya!)
Lay you down and undress ya. - ('dress ya!) - Put it on ya and bless ya! (bless ya!)
Baby look no further, I'm the one you need to say yes ta (yes ta!)
I don't need nobody else up in this bedroom, just ya!
Yeah! (yeah!) - Cause you and me we makes a hell of a pair (pair!)
I like you scratchin' my back. (back!) - You like me pullin' yo' hair! (hair!)
And I don't care - Black, White, Puerto Rican or Asian
European, Cape Verdean. - Creole or Cajun!
Domestic, international. - Even cosmopolitan
College girls, housewives, workin' or you modellin'. (hold up!)
I'm lovin' all shapes! - All colors, all sizes. (sizes!)
In the dark or in the broad day with no surprises ('prises!)
I got a suite that's on reserve at the telly (telly!)
Ready, willin' and waitin' so just hit me on my celly. (celly!) - It's goin' down...

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
[Candi Redd:]
Oh, Candi Redd! - 2 A.M. and we gon' get it in, afterparty we gon' kick it off (off!)
Put your favorite dessert all over my body and let you li-lick it off. (off!)
I'm a light these Roman therapy candles and grind slow while undressin' (yeeah!)
Move yo' way in this lingerie baby, come open yo' present.
Up and down like a light switch. (aaahhh!) - I ain't Just Brittany but it make me sing! (sing!)
I'm all over that night stick, (aaahhh!) keep beatin it up like I'm Rodney King! (King!)
From behind with a tight grip. - Go on 'head boy do yo' thing. (thiing!)
Tryna let you hit it with that flex when you on yo' way to see me with that text! (text!)
[Surreal:]
I bet the neighbors know his name the way he beat it out the frame (frame!)
Surreal ride it like an 8-0-8, that sex good, he know it's great. (greeat!)
I work them hips, I work that face, throw it back and he daddy stroke,
Put whip cream on that kitty cat. - Eat it up and it purr back!
Pull my hair! - Arch my back! - Forget them clothes, throw 'em on the flo'!
He grip my thighs I'm goin live; Miss Aquafina, he know I'm wild.
What he do? - Just text me! - You wanna freak me? - Just Tweet me! (tweet meeee!)
Hit the flex when you sext me. - I'm on my way so he can sex me!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
[TroubleSum:]
I'm a sexting - model.
Lookin' like lemonade in a Coke bottle. (bottle!)
'Llac with my left eye's followed
So boulders try to hit - on me harder than Drago. (Drago!)
W-T-F O-M-G; semi-colon parenthesis. - T-T-Y-L on the screen. (uh-huh!)
Your girls'll say kick on the touch screen!
Smart Phones, sleek. - My presence make him hurry (uh-ha!) (hurry?)
So they all wanna talk sweet to my "BlackBerry".
[RawLT:]
I'm in my wife beater, "Boy Shorts", laid back, comfortable.
H-2-O, not RFL; flow so incredible.
Candy sweet - edible! - Fo' G, digital!
Tell me what you need but please don't call, gotta sell it back good. - Hands on!
Rollin' on kush. - Roll thin! (yeeeah!) - They appetite large - V-12 engine. (yeeeah!)
Scorpio, I handle my business (yeees!) no tip but I stole what I finish. (yeeeah!)
Roll like thick I got that holla back. (yeeeah!) - Make her wanna follow that! (yeeeah!)
Look daddy, no hands! - Can you handle that? (yeeeah!)

[Chorus] [echoes] [beat stops]

Real Live Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Gator Mane & GLC)

[Intro: Bun B]
Bitch don't play... for real!
It P.I.
No bullshit!
Back up off me!
I'm so serious about this.
I'm So serious about this...
Move around bitch if you ain't dyin' move around bitch!
Church on the move!

[Bun B:]
Say bitch you fuckin' with a boss, (boss!)
"Trill O.G" that didn't come to take a loss. (take a loss!)
I paid the cost to be who I - are, (are!)
And they know it when they see me ridin' my car. (car!)
Candy - with the dro inside a big jar, (jar!)
I'm bout to roll that motherfucka in a ci-gar (ci-gar!)
And when the Swisha sweet is hit I'd be - careful (why,)
That smoke will have you coughin all your shit up! (all your shit up!)
I'm in my everyday get up (what?)
Black-T, Levi's, Jordans and them diamonds that stay lit up. (stay lit up!)
You wanna be like Bun Beeta, step yo feet up,
Nigga this is playa school, pay attention sit up! (nigga sit up!)
Cause Big Daddy's on the block (block!)
Smokin' private stock and his bitch is sellin' cock. (cock!)
Hit the block grab the cash, get the cheese and get the dough
And if you never did this shit befo' (shiit!) - you can hit the door! (hit the door!)

[Chorus: Bun B]
I need a real live hoe! (live hoe!)
That'll pick it up and drop it to the floor. (to the floor!)
Fo' sho'! - Now bust it open let me see it,
If you're lookin' for a man, hoe you know I can't be it. (can't be it!) [x2]

[The Gator Main:]
Okay! Gator Main, nigga! - I-I, I needa real live bitch! (live!)
To get out on that block until her daddy get rich. (uh-huuh!)
Now come and let a nigga put you on my gift list
This rep a lot bitch; grab a shovel dig this. (dig this!)
Broke bitch, get a hustla flip this, (God!)
If you don't like it you can raise like a lift kit. (a lift kit!)
Lil' bitty boy - I was lifted,
Off of Kush smoke - 7 grain, I must of missed it. (missed it!)
I started blowin up like some bisquick,
Fishstick-ass nigga plex it was dismissed.
My name be on top of nigga's hit list,
Betta yet my name be on top of a nigga's wish list! (wish list!)
Canary diamonds lookin like a piss test, (why?)
Shawtty wanna be with me she betta be a rich bitch. (rich bitch!)
Or she betta be a dime done diva
When I'm down in H-Town fuckin' 'round with Bun Beeta. - Nigga!

[Chorus x2]

[GLC:]
Everywhere I go hold up pimpin' is respected ('ey, 'ey!)
Hoes keep a playa chose, honor and except it. ('ey, 'ey!)
Astonishin collective, my ism is effected ('ey!)
Wake up to some pressed clothes, pussy and some breakfast. (God!)
Pimpin' is a threshold - physically neglected,
Women call my phone and plee for GLC to smash this ('ey, 'ey! cash!)
Tryna check on me and see what they can come and help with ('ey, 'ey, 'ey!)
Beezies is some L.I.G.'s they wasn't on the shelf bitch. (oh, God!)
Just because your man be there wearin' that wear that's got some velvet, (ah-hahaha!)
He is least intreguin so I call him Robert Redford.
Get an A for effort, ('ey, 'ey!)
That when situations lead to somethin' desperate. - I'm at another airport!
Church is on the move, ew, let me be your shep-haaaard!
The mackin' Moses I was on it.
I was caught up in the moment, Mackin' moment of a tone, ('ey, 'ey!)
Askin' me to be your man when you know the answer's: "No!" Bitch... (hell, noooo!)

[Chorus x4]

Git In Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Big Capp & Young Money Moe)

[Intro: Big Capp]
Yeaaaah!
Big Capp... pussy! (youkno'Imean?)
Pussy-ass...
Tryna get in where you fit in, huh? (Pimp C!)
Well ain't no room over here! (UGK!)
Bun!
Bun!
Young Money Moe!
II Trill West! (West!)
II Trill, II Trill!
II Trill, II Trill... West!

[Bun B:]
Man, goddamn I hate a buster!
Talkin' about he shinin but his shit is lackluster. (lackluster!)
No karats in his chain, no cluster!
Nigga you a burger, try to catch up to the mustard! (mustard!)
Lame ass! Who responsible for makin' you?
Phonier than a motherfucker, I can see the fake in you.
I can see the Jake in you; you look like a teller (like a teller!)
I ought to shoot ya dog ass, like Old Yeller. (like Old Yeller!)
Fly fella? Hell nah! More like half man;
Half nothin else, it's so sad, I can't laugh man. (man!)
Or even smirk! (smirk!) - Nigga you's a jerk! (jerk!)
You gonna make me have to put in work and go berserk! ('serk!)
Wanna-be-me ass, nigga get off the testes! ('tes!)
The greatest like Gretzky, don't test me (me!)
With flyin' colors, I'll pass your pop quiz
I'm sick, plop-plop, fizz-fizz, you know the biz! (biz!)

[Chorus: Bun B]
We been fuckin' bitches! (bitches!) - We been stackin' riches! (riches!)
We been duckin' snitches! (snitches!) - Get in pussy, niggaaaa!
We been gettin' dough! (dough!) - we been bunch of hoes (hoes!)
With G's and they know (know!) - get in pussy niggaaaaa!
We been sittin' clean! (clean!) - We been gettin green! (green!)
We been on the scene! (scene!) - Get in pussy niggaaaa!
We been gettin' paper! (paper!) - We been shakin' haters! (haters!)
We gon' see ya later! (later!) - Get in pussy nig-gaaaa!

[Bun B:]
Man, goddamn I hate a lame! (lame!)
Green as a garden, talkin' 'bout he in the game. (game!)
Say he got them grams (grams!) - barely got them grains (grains!)
Lyin on your work and it's a motherfuckin' shame. (shame!)
Worst than a dame, always peekin' in your doors (doors!)
Short stop and stains. (stains) - Tryna fuck your hoes! (hoes!)
Trickin' on the cool, nigga payin' for the freaky (freaky!)
It ain't like I care but why your ass bein sneaky? (sneaky!)
To each his own partner; move along, partner!
I don't need a nigga like you in my zone, partner.
Give me fifty feet (feet!) - or maybe fifty yards (yards!)
Fuck your fifty town! -? is fraud. (fraud!)
Say you got them yams and you sittin on some yay! (yay!)
Asked him for a ten piece, he hit me with a trey! (trey!)
Got me fucked up, partner; who you tryna play? (play!)
Keep your dirty dope, your shit ain't butter anyway. - O-kay?

[Chorus]

[Young Money Moe:]
You better get in where you fit in
All these pussy-ass niggaz jumpin back on my dick again!
Been ridin' clean! - Pull up in the newest Benz! (ch'eah!)
And I never lose. - Bitch I was born to win! (I was born to win!)
Man, all these niggaz Powderpuffs
Talkin' tough - all them drugs got 'em gassed up (gassed up!)
And it's "D.O.A." - if Big Capp come! (CAPP COME!)
We'll put your body Underground, you could ask Bun. (ASK BUN!)
I'm the last of a dyin' breed
Thirty karats in the piece got your girl eyein' me. (mommy!)
It's II Trill West, we a dynasty
'Cause I am - what you're tryina be!
Fuck where you're comin' from! - Save your apologies! (save 'em!)
WestSide, a rider got a Makaveli prophecy! (WestSiiiide!)
I'm one of the best that they ever seen
Young Money Moe! - I'm a motherfuckin' prodigy! (prodigy!)

[Chorus]

[Outro: Big Capp {Bun B}]
Yeah!
You niggaz heard it...
We been gettin' paper... and shakin' haters! (the boys!)
Bun B!
UGK!
Trill Entertainment! {Get in pussy niggaaaa!} (yeah!)
II Trill West!
Big Capp!
Young Money Moe!
Pimp C... (get 'em B!) Rest In Peace!
We love you brother!
We miss you bro'! {Get in pussy niggaaaa!}
Straight up!
Pus-syyyy! [beat fades out]
I smell pu-ssyyyy!
You smell it? [sniff] {Get in pussy niggaaaa!}
Pussy-ass niggaz!

The Best Is Back Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro - talking]
God damn! (God damn!)
Guess who's back in the motherfuckin house? (motherfuckin house)
The King of the Trill bitch, you guessed it
"UGK 4 Life" ho (4 Life ho)
You already know how we gettin down this time around (time around)
We representin for the po' town (po' town), bitch
And the motherfuckin best is back
Hold up, yeah

[Verse 1]
Ladies and gentlemen, you already know that it's him again
Lettin 'em hang, non-feminine, crunk like I'm gone off Ritalin
Chopped off top, there's no middle and throwed on that load again
with no vodka, show shocker, mo' rocker
in the slab (in the slab), "Bend It Like Beckham", no soccer (no soccer)
And no doctor can diagnose, the symptom when I approach
My victim, from the back and tie the rope (rope)
And throw 'em over the ledge
like Blanket, throw a thrower over your head, all over your dead
Go 'head quote 'em, he said it was bound to happen (happen)
when you fuck around with the clowns and down for clappin (clappin)
Get strapped, ready to pop rounds up out the Magnum (Magnum)
When they hop out and jack 'em (jack 'em)
Call the coroner to come out and wrap 'em
Put him under the tree, so every one of ya can see
That ain't no fuckin with the Bun to the B, niggaz

[Chorus - 2X]
"Guess who's back? Me"
"There's no competition, huh, 'tion"
"Aww sh-shit, hold up"
"Guess who's back? Shut 'em down"
"Hurt-hurtin boys"
"It's over, it's over"
"'Cause the best is back bitch"

[Verse 2]
It's Bun Beeder mayne, ridin with the heater mayne
Niggaz know that I'm the hardest out since the peta mayne (mayne)
Hot doggin, yeah smoke dog comin out foggy
Lettin off at your toes, hi froggie (hi)
My third leg loggy and your bitch is a lumberjack
You'd of killed that ho if you knew what I'd done to that (to that)
She chopped my tree down, often if I slumber jack
Beggin me to call but shit I don't know where her number at (at all)
And on the cool, I ain't lookin for it either though
Or the bitch before her, no I ain't lookin for neither ho (naw)
It ain't like I really need her though
Once she drop to her knees and let me skeet it out, nigga she can go (go)
Lead her out like a blind man walkin
Like Sandman dancin, it's over, stop talkin
I'm sparkin mo' dodo (dodo), blazin mo' kush up (kush up)
Comin mo' harder than a no hand push-up (push-up)

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Let's pass the peas like we used to say and put it down like we used to play
Let's make the news today and leave some cement in they shoes today
Say what we choose to say and lay down who we choose to lay
And we leave 'em laid (laid), while we leavin paid (paid)
Fair and square nigga, sound like an even trade (trade)
Triple cross and we leave 'em sprayed (sprayed)
Spayed and neutered, no matter how much you pray to the shooter's face (face)
'Cause there's no emotion ('motion) and there's no elation ('lation)
Then he realizes the reaper of the show he facin (facin)
Secret words like a holy mason (mason)
Was all he heard before I took his head off (head off) and I blew his face in (face in)
Who ya chasin? Ain't no catchin up
Keep ya weapon tucked, be ready to buck and knuckle up, whenever you steppin up
Takin it as your guns are just, the fact that leavin it less is crap
Never leave less than that
It's just a fact that nigga the best is back, bitch (yeeeeaah)

Untitled Flow (58 Bars) Lyrics – Bun-B

You see me, you know that I'm on my Deen
Down to get down anytime by any means
Known to be OT, reppin on any scene
And all about the paper, we stackin up plenty green
From my city to your city, it's all the same
These hoes disrespectin, they callin you out your name
These niggaz lookin for work, there's guarantee to lock
Put they dope up in they sock, then head out to the block
These snitches wearin G uniforms to blend in
Yeah we know you one of the ones Feds gon' send in
Got caught, out of town, lookin at a dime
So you wanna give other niggaz ya time
And here's the new plan, they cut the dope way before you can
By the time you get it, you like what the fuck to do man?
You better be a certified chef
Or your whole sellers fittin to go left to the death
And street niggaz ain't got receipts so
They fittin to try to sleep yo ass on the d-low
Ridin like Deebo, comin like Carter
You rollin like Marsellus Wallace, we roll harder
Start a situation and we bring it to the end
So take a memo motherfucker, send it to a friend
Then send it to your kin or whoever care
'Cause when we come, we takin out whoever there
Yeah, real talk, this is real nigga attitude
Bring it your face, give me longitude and latitude
Better show me some gratitude
Or I'm a show you why God himself ain't never made a badder dude
Then the one standin in front of you
Bitch you know what I'm a do and don't call me B, this Mr. Bun to you
Motherfucker fix ya grammar
The next time you call a nigga bamma, you better have a hammer
And I ain't talkin 'bout all that nail shit
I'm talkin 'bout they poppin off and makin you bail shit
We ride like Amtrak cross country
You badder bitch? Then come in front and try to chump me
Ah shit, ding, ding goes the bell
That's the sign that ya bitch ass is fittin to take a L
Don't give it to ya homeboy, take it for yourself
And after I give it to ya, you can take it and tell
And put in on ya Facebook wall
And let your friends see, how a trill nigga took y'all and shook y'all
Stompin like a nigga that's ten foot tall
But don't trip it's just a friendly game of football
Hold up and I'm the Super Bowl quarterback
But yo bitch ass? You ain't even much a starter jack
Go ahead and take ya team to the showers
When we done with the trophy bitch, you can have ours
'Cause we packin more power
And bound to make ya stop, drop and roll like the fuckin Twin Towers
Hours on the clock goin by like seconds
When you in the middle of a chin check and I wreck it
With real live thugs at my beck and call
They won't find no trouble disrespectin y'all
So you bound to fall, somebody yell "timber!"
You fuckin with the down South King, call me Simba
And remember, who the fuck ya talkin to
Or you'll see the pearly gates you'll be walkin through, fool

"II Trill" (2008)

II Trill Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Z-Ro, J. Prince)

[J. Prince]
awww yeah..what's up pimp I feel ya prescence right now
yo bun. you know many are called but few are chosen
you the chosen one my nigga the future president congratulations
by the way I need you to send a trill message to some
and a subliminal message to others about this throwin' rocks and
then hidin' ya hand bitch. please let em know we gon give them what
they ask for

[Bun B]
mayne I'm too hard for all you soft niggas
too real for most of you lames
too raw to be in this rap shit and the streets is the same
too throwed off in this game too true to my hood
I'm too down to get down so lets get it understood
too bad to be good too golden not glisten
too focused for fuck boys to fuck off my mission
too smart not to listen when g's pull my coat
bout them white folks that's listenin and watchin' my boat
that's real shit you can quote I'm too gangsta too street
so don't run up too fast cuz I'm too strapped with that heat
I'm too dirty to be me too gorilla to be monkey
too fly to stay grounded too fresh to be funky
too many licks for junkies, too much work for flippers
too much dro for smokers, too much amp for dippers
no need for you to trip cuz we bring to much drama
got too many killas put that on my mamma
I'm too trill

[Z-Ro - Hook]
Iiiiii'm too trill, too, too too real
all about my dolla bills and even if I tried
I could never fall off too much money on my mind
IiiiiI'm too trill too, too, too, real
hard as penetentiary steel it's simple and plain
If I retired you young'uns wouldn't know what to do with the game

[Bun B]
and I'm too serious for this play playin' it's too much bread to make
for me too fuck of my time with these cats that's too fake
I done seen too many wakes, sent too many to them
yo homeboy can get it I'm to ready to do him
too many guns I can pull, too many slugs I can bust
leave yo brain matter, bone fragments, and dick up in the dust
too many niggas I done crushed to let yo bitch ass come try me
that smart game got gun play youll be screamin' why me
too close don't get by me, you too prone to tell
bout these bodies we catchin', this dope that we sell
you too weak ,mayne too frail, too light up in yo britches
you too much dick ridin' manye you worse than these bitches
too many snitches that you breakin' bread wit
you too close to police ,boy you on some fed shit
so you can go head with that sale, we wont' buy
I'm too smart for all that dumb shit you know but boys try

[Hook]

[Bun B]
and I'm too sick of all this sweet shit cuz I'm seein' too much smilin'
too much punk ass posin' too much punk ass profilin'
too many niggas be frontin' like they got the town on lock
with too much money in the bank and too many hoes is on they jock
but you smoke too many of them rocks that you claimin' you done sold
I done been out on them blocks and you ain't got too much control
man you workers ain't that cold, they some hoes more or lesser
and they too ready to fold cuz they can't take too much pressure
do we mash on them? yes sir they in violation go get em
It won't be too long befo we mop up the flo with em
It's rap-a-lot for life we done been here too long
to let these hata's bring us down we too right they too wrong
I'm too black and too strong to go out like a punk
too ready for the ruckus too close too my trunk
we can pop or we can jump we can blast or we can go
from the shoulders bitch I tried to told you but if you ain't kno
I'm II Trill

That's Gangsta Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Sean Kingston)

[Bun B - Intro]
R.I.P. Pimp C
UGK for Life, you already know, baby
{J-J-J-J-J-J-J.R.! J.R.} (Yeah, mon..)
This for my trill gangstas, let's do it

[Chorus - Sean Kingston]
I'm a full-time hustler, posted on the block
Gotta get it t'how I live, an' I'm never gon' stop
Now that's gangstaaaaaaaaaaaa...
Now that's gangstaaaaaaaaaaaa...
When mi ride t'ru the hood, you can hear the bass knock
All de gal dem love me, me have de city locked
Now that's gangstaaaaaaaaaaaa...
Now that's gangstaaaaaaaaaaaa...HEY!

[Bun B]
Mayne I'm a gangsta, G-A-N-G-S-T-A mayne
A gangsta, the best to come up out of PA, mayne
A gangsta, seldom seen, but always heard
A REAL gangsta, more than just a seven-letter word (fo' real!)
A gangsta ain't cha clothes (clothes), a gangsta ain't cha hat (hat)
Your watch, rang, and chain - naw, a gangsta ain't that! (at all!)
A gangsta can have that, but he ain't gotta show it (why?)
cause with or without it he's still a gangsta and you know it
From my head to my toe wit it, it ain't hard to see
that I'm a gangsta, ain't too many as hard as me
You claimin G, but you ain't gangsta jack
So tell all them fake gangstas
I'm comin to take gangsta back - now that's gangsta!

[Chorus]

[Bun B]
Mayne I'm a gangsta, now let me tell you what that means
See I'm a gangsta, always got my mind on my green
And I'm a gangsta, always gon' do what I gotta do (yep!)
Unless it's givin game to police and sellin out his crew (naw!)
That's somethin gangstas don't do, gangstas keep it trill (trill)
A gangsta do a crime, he do his time on the real (real)
A gangsta don't squeal and tell on everyone he know
Put a jacket on ya boy, you ain't a gangsta, youse a hoe! (A HOE!)
A gangsta holds his homeboys down when they gone (gone)
A gangsta put him back on his feet when they home (home)
A gangsta is a homeboy that never turn his back
on another real homie, that's a well-known fact - and that's gangsta!

[Chorus]

[Bun B]
Mayne I'm a gangsta, call me the hood superstar
and I'm a gangsta, ridin in my candy-painted car
Cause see a gangsta, always down to rep for his hood
and to do a little bad, so I can do a little good
A gangsta don't forget where he came from, no matter
where he go or where he been, keep it gangsta 'til the end
Cause I'm a gangsta (yep), and I'ma always love my city
Make money but don't act like I'm above my city (Never!)
Cause gangstas, will always give back to the ghetto
And gangstas, will never turn they back to the ghetto
That's a fact in the ghetto, it's never been a lie (lie)
So I'ma keep it gangsta 'til the day that I die - now that's gangsta!

[Chorus]

[Outro - Bun B]
Yeah, it's still UGK for Life for all you haters out there
We gon' ride for the Pimp
R.I.P. Pimp C, ain't nobody ever gon' stop this music
UGK befo', UGK now, and UGK until, baby!

Damn I'm Cold Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Lil Wayne)

[Intro]
Chops on the track
(Damn I'm cold, damn I'm cold)
(Damn I'm cold, damn I'm cold)

[Lil Wayne]
See when I got Mercedes, I went and got a Mercedes
When I got that Bentley, I went and got that Bentley
Now if ye ain't help me make it, don't tell me how to spend it
And yes I know the rules, never marry Robin Givens
Mozzarella over bitches til we call them bitches cheeseheads
Lambeau leap in that pussy like in Green Bay
Lambo' suite look like sugar on the freeway
And I'm "Ridin Dirty" cause I'm so U-G-K
One two three wait, fo' fo' makes eight
Nine times out of 10 it's eleven or a 12 gauge
Friday the 13th, that's the day that hell raise
But y'all boys too weak, like fo'teen days
I'm so clean, why wouldn't I be
I be with Ben Frank' so much he's startin to look like me
I'ma smoke my weed and I don't wanna smoke yours
And I pour four, every time I pour

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
Like, is you sayin somethin bitch
If ye ain't talkin 'bout us, we ain't talkin 'bout shit
I woke up this mornin, eyes half closed
I looked into the mirror and said damn I'm cold
Damn I'm cold, and my hoes
Pimp shit nigga keep payin my hoes
Damn I'm cold, man I'm throwed
I said damn I'm cold, hot damn I'm cold

[Bun B]
See when I got that slab money I put the Rivvy on blades
When I got that 'llac money I candied the Escalade
Got that Screw in my deck, a house or two on my neck
A couple cars on my wrist, and bitch I'm ready to wreck
We 'bout to do this for Pimp C, so pass me a bottle
I'm 'bout to pop the top on it like a slab or a model
Turn it upside down then po' it out for my lil' bro
Then pass me another one so I can po' out a lil' mo'
Fresher than ozium, cleaner than wax floors
I'm, slick as linoleum, swingin them 'llac do's
Them, Franklins you foldin yeah we tryin to stack those
So fo' you play the role you need to learn how to act, HOE
Swangaz who' crank fo's and tip nin trunks who bang
Haters get back and hoes'll flip with nuts who hang
It ain't a thang, make #1's and ever will
I put that on my life, Bun Beeda fo'ever trill, f'real

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, fuckin right alright
Goin at your neck like a barkin dog bites
I woke up this mornin, eyes half closed
Looked into the mirror and said damn I'm cold
Damn I'm cold, and my hoes
Pimp shit nigga keep payin my hoes
Damn I'm cold, man I'm throwed
I said damn I'm cold, hot damn I'm cold

[Bun B]
Is it the ice in the piece or the ice in the chains?
Is it the ice in the watch or the ice in the Range?
Or the bracelet, face it, you feel the chill in yo' veins
Could it be from Bun Beda or that boy Lil Wayne?

[Lil Wayne]
Or could it be the two-seater, on them thangs
Got on a couple gold chains, so dang-a-dang
I swang and bang, from lane to lane
Yeah, it's gettin hot and you starting to feel the flame
Bun

[Bun B]
It's gettin brick and you starting to feel the breeze
And the temperature's going down, best to get you some sleeves
And you best to get you some G's, 'fore you lose your control
And we turn your whole neighborhood into the North Pale

[Lil Wayne]
Like brrrrrrrrr, machine gun brrrrrrrrrr
I am a beast grrrrrrr, money machine brrrrr
F-U-C-K, C-O-P's
I say I know when they say freeze - yeaahhhhh!

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
Okay, you already knew
No pussies, no rats, no Tom and Jerry show
And I woke up this mornin, eyes half closed
Looked into the mirror like damn I'm cold
Oh damn I'm cold, and my hoes
Damn I'm cold, man I'm throwed
I said damn I'm cold, hot damn I'm cold

[Outro]
This has been a Chops production

You're Everything Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Rick Ross, David Banner, 8Ball & MJG)

[Bun B]
Man f'real I love bein from the Dirty South mayne
It made me the G I am today, made me the hustler I am today
The grinder, the baller; the gangster I am today mayne
Lot of people got opinions and, issues and, problems with
what they see comin from the South and who doin what in the South mayne
But I'ma tell you like this - FUCK YOU DAWG~! This the South nigga
We gon' be here, we been here, and ain't goin no motherfuckin where
Take it how you like it, hate it or love it hoe!

It's that candy paint, 84's, belts and buckles, chrome and grill
Leather seats, stitch and tuck, TV screens and wooden wheels
Suede roof, neon lights, whole tire swang and bang
Tops drop, blades chop, fifth wheel just hangin mayne
White T's, fitted hats, Jordans or the dickies (dickies)
That Swisher sweet, cigarillos filled up with the sticky (sticky)
The fifteens bam'n and the bass kick-kickin
Cadillac do's slammin on them po'-po's tippin
We ain't trippin just flippin these haters dip when they see us (dip when they see us)
Cause they could never beat us best us or be us
I'm a G that's a genius, best to just respect my thuggin mayne
It's the South, ain't nothin above it and that's why I love it mayne!
F'real

[Chorus: Jodeci samples]
You're everything I knew! (Ohh yeah)
Do what you want me to (I will doooooooo anything)
Get on my knees for you (ohhhhhhhhhh bab-bayyy)
What else is there to do (I don't know, I don't know, but I'll cry)

[Rick Ross - talking over Chorus second half]
Yeah, keepin it trilla baby; Texas, P.A. to H-Town
3-oh-5 to Mi-Yayo... you know what it is

Pray at night when you sellin white, got one ki' tryin to sell it twice
Yellow stones all in my shit, yellowbones all on my dick
Honeycomb I call my crib, money long that's on my kids
R.I.P. to my Uncle Chad, UGK you can't fuck wit that
Niggaz fake, they hate candy paint, and all the paper that your partner make
Shakin dice like a face of life, champagne just ain't tastin right
Haterade they Gatorade, look at these seats they gator made
Friend or foe niggaz never know (know) never know when you fin' to blow

[David Banner]
Dude scrapin the curb, dippin sippin some syrup
Fingers blistered twisted Swishers, Pimp died and it hurt
But I handle my issue, I got several pistols
that won't whistle, missles knockin gristle from fatty tissue
Mississippi's my home, 'til I'm die and I'm gone
I know I put it on my back, held that bitch up alone
With no label b-backin, pride split into fractions
I hit the ocean on peggy bustin back at the crackin
And y'all scared (y'all scared)

[Chorus]

[Eightball]
Lets talk about Pimp C, Bun B, Eightball, MJG
Big Boi, Dre 3000, Scarface, Willie D
T.I.P, Young Jeezy, Birdman, Lil Weezy
Trick Daddy, Young Buck, SoSoDef, Jermaine Depri
J Prince, Rap-A-Lot, Juicy J, DJ Paul
Slim Thug, Lil' Keke, Chamillionare, Paul Wall
We all different but we all rep the same thang
God first, family then money in the South mayne

[MJG]
They call me PEEIMP TYTE! MJG
The Dirty South, is everything I want
Everything I need, everything I'm longin for
when I'm outta town gotta get home, just for
Everything that I been raised to love, the wisdom my grandmomma gave to us
Racial profilin, police harassment regular days to us
You say door, we say do'; you say four, we say fo'
You say whore, we say hoe; you want more, but we want mo'
What else is there left for me to do?
This the dedication from me to you
The South, I know you gonna see, me through
So until I die I wanna be, wit'chu
You're everything

[Chorus]

I Luv That Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro - Unknown Female]
I luv that shit - [3X]

[Verse 1 - Bun B]
It's goin down like it always do
I'm about to hit 'em front door, front row with the crew
I pull up to valet in the '09 'cedes ('09 'cedes)
And turn the heads of all the fly ladies (fly ladies) (I luv that shit)
I lift the doors out (out), then lift the doors up (up)
Step out the car and the whole world slows up (up)
I show up like a certified pro
Lookin like slow motion when I heads to the door (to the door)
I walk right past the line to the rope
Everybody fall back like I'm the motherfuckin po'
And it's not even a question if I fittin to bring the strap in
They tried to pat me down but it ain't fittin to happen
Head to the bar, all eyes on B-da (on B-da)
From the haters and the fly mamacitas (mamacitas)
And trust me mayne when the club this thick
You ain't even got to ask - I luv this shit

[Chorus - Bun B (Unknown Female)]
The club is packed, the bottles is poppin {bottles is poppin}
We make it rain when the models is boppin, mayne (I luv that shit)
Ladies shakin they backs
And all the players and the pimps is catchin heart attacks, come on (I luv that shit)
Aiyyo DJ turn it up (I luv that shit)
You got a beat, then let's burn it up {burn it up}
You know we do it B-I-G
So come and holla at a player in the V-I-P

[Verse 2 - Bun B]
UGK we in the house fo's
ho'
We about to crank this thang up and you already know (already know) (I luv that shit)
We in the club lookin like new money
Put ya stunna shades on 'cause the ice too sunny (too sunny)
Me and my partners posted up at the bar
And we about to buy it out, for the price of your car (huh)
All the Ace of Spades, all the Rozay
All the syrup and white and Patron, okay? (okay?)
They sendin out ice buckets by the dozens (dozens)
I pass 'em out to my dogs and my cousins (cousins)
The whole club full of smoke and we buzzin (buzzin)
It's goin down in here mayne, you thought it wasn't?
Movin through the club like a conga line
See the baddest little bopper, legs long and fine
And she like "I love your ropes, are they solid gold or hollow B?" '
I tell ya in the VIP, mommie follow me

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Bun B]
No party like a trill ass party, 'cause a trill ass party don't stop (don't stop)
Mayne it ain't no shorty like a trill ass shorty, 'cause a trill ass shorty gon' drop (gon' drop)
Go on drop it down low to the floor, make it pop (make it pop)
I want to watch you wobble, show me what you got (what you got)
Now go on work that (work that), and twerk that (twerk that)
Now wiggle it around baby jerk that (jerk that)
Now toot it up (toot it up), and boot it up (boot it up)
I'm cocked and loaded and I'm a shoot it up (shoot it up)
Now grind it (grind it), dirty wind it (wind it)
Now back it up, while I get behind it (behind it)
Now go ahead and do your thang girl (girl)
Let it loose, let it go, let it hang girl (girl)
And shake what your momma gave ya for daddy (daddy)
And maybe you can ride shotgun in the Caddy, come on

[Chorus 2X]

Swang On 'Em Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Lupe Fiasco)

[Intro]
We ride, we ride 22's or better
We, we ride, we ride 22's or better
{I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
{I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
Now if I catch you at the light {I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
That candy paint ain't lookin right {I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We, we ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}

[Bun B]
Now if you come down to this Dirty South, betta watch yo' ears
Cause country boys talk with a dirty mouth, and they on them corners
And they hustlin up that dirty D, betta watch them dirty boys
Down South we keep it dirty G, I know you heard of me
I got that work (work) man I got that white and I got that purp', and I
got that brown and I got that green when I'm in yo' town and I hit yo' scene
In a candy painted car that'll sit so clean
Trunk on pop with the fifth on lean
"II Trill" DVD playin on my screen
Sittin on cream, man you know what I mean?

[Chorus]
Now if I catch you at the light {I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
That candy paint ain't lookin right {I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We, we ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}

[Bun B]
Now if you come down to this T-E-X, betta show some love
Cause homey you don't wanna see me plex, when we 'bout that paper
And ain't no shortstop in my cashin checks, I get full of ana
And get to standin upon these niggaz necks, betta show respect
Or we pullin out them tecs, man I got them macs and I got them K's
And I got them 9's and I got them A's, R-15's and them two-two-treys
Player when I ride I'ma ride for days, no I don't miss and I sho' don't graze
Bring what you got and I bet it don't faze
I'm a trill-ass nigga man it's in my ways

[Chorus]

[Lupe Fiasco]
Yup! Now I'm Chi-Town born and I'm Chi-Town bred; call me Westside Lu'
But I know about the Northside blues and them Southside reds
I run the F-N-F crew 'til my man Chilly Chill come home and he back on deck
My garage keep a very fast car, keep a classy gold chain wrapped around my neck
I came from the left but I'm downright fresh
Speak on - how you on a song Bun B
Complete 180 how crazy-ass he gone
How strong is the brand of D that he on?
How come he do what he want and never do what we want?
I'm Rick James, in this game
There's a wide leather couch for me to plant my feet on
The Murphys didn't jump me, told me to get comfy
Even brought the loveseat for me to spill my drink on
Willie D gave me my stamp
Shout to Mike Jones and the Swisha camp
That boy Callion and the Rap-A-Lot Ranch
The "boss of the North" and "The People's Champ"
Coolest nigga what? Coolest nigga what?
Been swallowed by them city lights
Ball 'til I'm benched and I put it on a pimp
F-N-F, U-P, U-G-K fo' life

[Chorus]

{I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
{I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}
We, we ride, we ride 22's or better {Swang on 'em; I swang on 'em, swang on 'em}

My Block Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Jazze Pha)

[Chorus: Jazze Pha]
We run things round here (round here)
So I suggest you don't come around here (round here)
Boy you know you ain't from round here (round here)
So stand clear (stand clear) and I'ma tell you what it is
This is my block (LAY DOWN) this is my block (LAY DOWN)
This is my block (LAY DOWN) this is my block (LAY DOWN)
Ohhhhhh, we run t'ings round here
Oh-ohhhhh, this my block right here
This is my block (LAY DOWN) this is my block (LAY DOWN)
This is my block (LAY DOWN) this is my block (LAY DOWN)
Ohhhhhh, we run t'ings round here
Oh-ohhhhh, this my block right here

[Bun B]
Well hold it down lil' buddy, pump ya breaks, slow ya roll
Ease back on your throttle, put your plans on hold
I don't care what'cha sellin (sellin) or care what'cha sold
I don't know what they was tellin you or what you been told
This my block, I got it locked down cold (cold)
And all this right here, this is under my control
I could really give a damn 'bout the name on the sign (on the sign)
Cause as far as I'm concerned this is mine (this is mine)
You crossed the line playboy, you might as well
make love to a mirror cause you playin wit yourself (playin wit yourself)
We raise hell (we raise hell) we go hard
Don't make me bring the drama to ya momma front yard
This is my block

[Chorus]

[Bun B]
See you from outta town (town) so you don't know the rules (rules)
Round here homie we don't suffer no fools
We don't play with no kids (kids) unless we done made 'em
We don't talk to police ('lice) unless we done paid 'em
It's a code in these streets (code in these streets) you better learn it
And we don't just give out respect, you gotta earn it (you gotta earn it)
And we don't hustle cause we wanna, cause we have ta
God first, fam next, and all the rest after (the rest after)
We make money not the other way around (round)
So don't you play around (round) or we will lay you down (down)
Comin from P.A. the town (town) the land of the trill
Play your cards right or get yourself, shuffled on the real
This is my block

[Chorus]

[Bun B]
See this is my B-L-O-C-K
My streets and I got 'em on L-O-C-K (C-K)
I walk around with G-L-O-C-K
And I'ma keep it on C-O-C-K, okay
I represent P.A., the West to the East (East)
And you don't want a war, everybody got a piece (got a piece)
You think it's sweet (sweet) until you catch a cavity (a cavity)
And that heat'll make yo' ass defy gravity (gravity)
So do the math (do the math) connect the dots (connect the dots)
See if you wanna do it to yourself or not
Don't get too close (close) cause you might get shot (shot)
Just do yourself a favor, get the fuck up out the spot
This is my block

[Chorus]

Get Cha Issue Lyrics – Bun-B

[Intro]
Payback's a motherfucker!
This is where we take a journey, called karma
What goes around, comes back around
Especially the rules of these streets
It's a bloody war, in the rules of engagement
Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth
Justice, in the mind of a gangsta

[Bun B]
Hey, Mr. Preacher Man, what do you say?
See you out here tryin to save yourself some people today
You got the good book in your hand and the robe on your back
Steppin out your 2008 Escalade Cadillac
You standin up in the pulpit, lookin out at the pew
Preachin the good word and tellin Christian folks what to do
You talkin 'bout the sinners are sinnin, but let's keep it true
Ain't nobody in this church a bigger sinner than you
It's chapter this, verse that, pass the plate, pay your tithes
Puttin rings on your fingers (fingers) and rims on your ride
You don't need yourself a thousand dollar suit, just to pray in
(Just to pray in) Or a million dollar house for you to stay in (nope)
Marriage counselin, but cheatin on ya own wife
Undercover pedophile, a heathen in ya own right
Let the do'knob hit ya where the good Lord split ya
You's a dirty motherfucker (so) it's time to get'cha issue, c'mon

[Interlude: Bun B]
The good book say, that he who is without sin cast the first stone
Mayne every time I walk inside the church house
the preacher cuttin his eyes at me
But I know he can't throw nothin my way
He dirtier than I am, ridin down the street shinin, ballin
Hollerin at broads, hollerin at dudes on the cool
That's why niggaz don't go to church now
It ain't the message, it's the motherfuckin messenger
Let us move on

[Bun B]
Hey, Mr. Policeman, what do you say?
I see you out here tryin to save yourself some people today
You got that nightstick in your hand and you walkin your beat
Or in the blue-and-white car and drivin down my street
You say you here to help the people, and do us some good
Protect us and serve, to try to keep the peace in our hood
Claim you crackin down on the crime, but let's keep it true
Cause the biggest criminals in my city is you
You know police brutality is at a all-time high (high)
Pumpin 61 slugs into an unarmed guy (guy)
Tried to say that the assailant had a motherfuckin handgun
But when you couldn't find one, you motherfuckers plant one
Rampart scandal, Tupac Shakur
Christopher Wallace, it got me sick and who got the cure?
If the PD, went M.I.A., we wouldn't miss ya
Y'all some dirty motherfuckers (so) it's time to get'cha issue, c'mon

[Interlude: Bun B]
Look at this shit mayne
Amadou Diallo, Sean Bell, Tupac Shakur, Notorious B.I.G.
Motherfuckers is dyin out here man
And if the police ain't killin 'em
They not givin a fuck about who will
Nobody tryin to find out who killed these people
Fat Pat, Big H.A.W.K., this shit ain't right man
Good cop, bad cop, the line blurry every day
Let us move on

[Bun B]
Hey, Mr. Politician, what do you say?
I see you out here tryin to save yourself some people today
You tellin us it's time for a change, people is dyin
And the current administration doin nothin but lyin
You come down to my community and tell us your goals
to clean the system up and get the crisis under control
Claimin you can get us on track, but let's keep it true
The main motherfuckers keepin us off track is you
Damn near everybody runnin is a member of the senate
They voted to send us to war, so y'all got us in it
Now the shit done hit the fan, and you tryin to say
you wasn't down from the jump but man the shit won't play
Y'all some liars, stealers, philanderers and all
Got senate to suck the dick inside of bathroom stalls
Nah, elected officials lettin the dick kiss you
You's a dirty motherfucker (so) it's time to get'cha issue, c'mon

[Outro: Bun B]
Man, I don't believe this shit
Motherfuckers overseas die in that war
We just got rid of a president that didn't wanna do nothin
Sit back and got his dick sucked all day
Now we got motherfuckin elected people, in office
In motherfuckin airport bathroom tryin to suck
the dicks half the people on the beat and shit
Now what is this world comin to?
Who lookin out for the children, education, social security
Bring my people back from motherfuckin Iraq mayne, for real
Let us move on [echoes]