[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 ...
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]
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]
[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]
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)
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]
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]
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!
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)
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
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 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
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!
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
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]
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]
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}
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]
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]
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]
Pop It 4 Pimp Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Webbie, Juvenile)
Mouse on the track, that'll make you bounce and act, what...
[repeat 2X]
Shake it like you mean it
Shake it like you mean it
Shake it like you mean it girl
Shake it like you mean it
[Chorus 1]
All my H-Town women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Baton Rouge women gon' pop it for pimp
All my ATL women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Birmingham women gon' pop it for pimp
[Interlude]
Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
[Bun B]
Now all my ladies to the dance flo', it's time to do ya thang
You see the piece of chain, you see the panky rang
Now this one ain't a joke, and this one ain't a game
You got to twurk for my baby brother, now show no shame
You already know who you came fo' and why you came
And why you comin, you hear the 8-0-8 drummin
Let a hater hate, woman that's what they gon' do
Now pop it for the pimp, you see a trill nigga want you
But you gotta be down, to fuck with me and my round
You ain't gon' pop it for the pimp, bitch get yo' ass out of town
You got to take it off and let me see it, with no delay
So if you miss the pimp let me hear you say, c'mon
[Interlude]
[Chorus 2]
All my women up in Philly gon' pop it for pimp
All my St. Louis women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Carolina women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Las Vegas women gon' pop it for pimp
[Juvenile]
Yeah, yeah
I love the way you work a pole yeah, Nicole yeah
Make a nigga spend his dough yeah, ya po' yeah
Ain't finished I got mo' yeah, to throw yeah
You will buy it and ya know yeah, and show yeah
Go on pop it for my nigga P-I-, M-P
Busy out there with my nigga B.I., and P-A-C
Streets fuck wit'chu and I can see why, you a G
You could pop it girl but after this, it's you and me
It don't matter if you got a day job or a stripper
Shake it like you mean it bitch, I'm a good tipper
It's been a minute, damn you done got thicker
And that ass look better when a nigga on liquor
(Pop it for pimp) [repeat 5X]
Whoa whoa whoa, whoa whoa whoa... (yeah)
[Chorus 3]
All my women up in Dallas gon' pop it for pimp
All my Chattanooga women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Ca$hville women gon' pop it for pimp
All my M-I-A women gon' pop it for pimp
[Interlude w/ ad libs]
[Webbie]
Gon' keep it trill shorty hairy asshole
All the real bad bitches get down on the flo'
If you gon' do it good I throw a lil' dough
If you do it a lil' better I throw a lil' mo'
Make somebody tell them bitches we gon' need mo' ones
Hit the room with me and Bun, it'll be so fun
Big titties, big buns, yeah she a thugga
Pop it like a firecracker, bet'cha Pimp'll love her
Check it out, stretch it out, go on 'head, let it out
Don't be shy, take your time, I know your mama had a fine ass daughter
I ain't lyin, I'll beat it like it's mine
Nah I ain't Sweet Jones but I keep a freak on, yeah
[Interlude]
[Chorus One]
[repeat 2X]
Shake it like you mean it
Shake it like you mean it
Shake it like you mean it girl
Shake it like you mean it
[Chorus 1]
All my H-Town women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Baton Rouge women gon' pop it for pimp
All my ATL women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Birmingham women gon' pop it for pimp
[Interlude]
Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
(Gon') Pop it for pimp (gon') pop it for pimp
[Bun B]
Now all my ladies to the dance flo', it's time to do ya thang
You see the piece of chain, you see the panky rang
Now this one ain't a joke, and this one ain't a game
You got to twurk for my baby brother, now show no shame
You already know who you came fo' and why you came
And why you comin, you hear the 8-0-8 drummin
Let a hater hate, woman that's what they gon' do
Now pop it for the pimp, you see a trill nigga want you
But you gotta be down, to fuck with me and my round
You ain't gon' pop it for the pimp, bitch get yo' ass out of town
You got to take it off and let me see it, with no delay
So if you miss the pimp let me hear you say, c'mon
[Interlude]
[Chorus 2]
All my women up in Philly gon' pop it for pimp
All my St. Louis women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Carolina women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Las Vegas women gon' pop it for pimp
[Juvenile]
Yeah, yeah
I love the way you work a pole yeah, Nicole yeah
Make a nigga spend his dough yeah, ya po' yeah
Ain't finished I got mo' yeah, to throw yeah
You will buy it and ya know yeah, and show yeah
Go on pop it for my nigga P-I-, M-P
Busy out there with my nigga B.I., and P-A-C
Streets fuck wit'chu and I can see why, you a G
You could pop it girl but after this, it's you and me
It don't matter if you got a day job or a stripper
Shake it like you mean it bitch, I'm a good tipper
It's been a minute, damn you done got thicker
And that ass look better when a nigga on liquor
(Pop it for pimp) [repeat 5X]
Whoa whoa whoa, whoa whoa whoa... (yeah)
[Chorus 3]
All my women up in Dallas gon' pop it for pimp
All my Chattanooga women gon' pop it for pimp
All my Ca$hville women gon' pop it for pimp
All my M-I-A women gon' pop it for pimp
[Interlude w/ ad libs]
[Webbie]
Gon' keep it trill shorty hairy asshole
All the real bad bitches get down on the flo'
If you gon' do it good I throw a lil' dough
If you do it a lil' better I throw a lil' mo'
Make somebody tell them bitches we gon' need mo' ones
Hit the room with me and Bun, it'll be so fun
Big titties, big buns, yeah she a thugga
Pop it like a firecracker, bet'cha Pimp'll love her
Check it out, stretch it out, go on 'head, let it out
Don't be shy, take your time, I know your mama had a fine ass daughter
I ain't lyin, I'll beat it like it's mine
Nah I ain't Sweet Jones but I keep a freak on, yeah
[Interlude]
[Chorus One]
Good II Me Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Mya)
[Bun B]
Baby girl lookin good, feel real thick
Real pretty, real fly, she a real chick
Lookin for a real player to adore ya
But look no further, I'm the player for ya
Sittin big on the 20-somethin inch thangs
Leanin on the leather, grippin grain with them big rangs
Big piece, big chain with the big ice
You wanna roll? You ain't gotta ask the kid twice
Push a button, the do's open up for ya
I save the shotgun seat up in the trunk for ya
Stitch and tuck, so you know that I'm a boss
with the red candy paint lookin like spaghetti sauce
You wanna floss with a G, keep it real
It ain't no need in you lyin, to the king of the Trill
You either won't or you will
Just keep it one hundred with a player baby tell me how you feel
C'mon
[Chorus One: Mya]
People always talkin' bout - they be sayin they be sayin they be sayin
Your reputation - how you got a lot of hoooooes, but I don't really give a
I don't care what you did to them! Just be good to me (be good to me)
Just be good to me (just be good to me) just be GOOD!
[Bun B]
You want me to be good, then I'ma be the best
And I'ma give you top shelf baby nuttin less
Front do' to the, front row
Whatever, you need just let, Bun know (Bun know)
First class flights, penthouse suites
You want sushi? We go to Japan to eat
You want pasta? We fly to Milan
That's how it is in the life of a don
We eat filet mignon in Pa-ris
That's how it is when you rollin with a G
Your man want it but he ain't thar rich
Trust me baby I can scratch that itch
Never call you a bitch when you act like a lady
You carry yourself like a woman and we gravy
Ain't no maybe, I know I can
Put the whole wide world in the palm of your hand baby
[Chorus Two: Mya]
People always tellin me - they be sayin they be sayin they be
That you're a player
I don't care 'bout them other girls! Just be good to me (be good to me)
Just be good to me (just be good to me) just be GOOD!
[Mya]
I said, I'll hold you down when you need me
I'm gonna be, I'm gon' always be around
I'll give you all my love
If you treat me right baby, ooooooooooh
[Bun B]
Girl anything you wishin I can make it come true
Have you lookin like a million dollars when you come through
Wit'cha Louboutin shoes, or Jimmy Chu's
Giuseppe, Zanetti or whatever you wanna do (you wanna do)
Louis V, Dior, Prada or Gucci (Gucci)
Richard Roy, Chanel, or maybe Coogi (Coogi)
Dolce & Gabbana or Valentino's (Tino's)
Ferragamo, Mark Jacobs, Malandrino's (Drino's)
Maybe Fendi or Yves St. Laurent
Versace, KLS, or whatever that you want
It ain't a thang to buy you some Vera Wang
You gotta look like a Queen for you to be with the Kang
The fancy cars with the butterfly do's
Big mansion with the marble on the flo's
The world is yo's but here's the key
When I'm bein good to you, be good II me
[Chorus One + Chorus Two with ad libs]
[Mya]
In the morning
In the evening baby
If you treat me good I'ma gonna keep on comin to ya
La la la la la lahhh
La la la la la lahhh
You're all that I know, just be good to me
Baby girl lookin good, feel real thick
Real pretty, real fly, she a real chick
Lookin for a real player to adore ya
But look no further, I'm the player for ya
Sittin big on the 20-somethin inch thangs
Leanin on the leather, grippin grain with them big rangs
Big piece, big chain with the big ice
You wanna roll? You ain't gotta ask the kid twice
Push a button, the do's open up for ya
I save the shotgun seat up in the trunk for ya
Stitch and tuck, so you know that I'm a boss
with the red candy paint lookin like spaghetti sauce
You wanna floss with a G, keep it real
It ain't no need in you lyin, to the king of the Trill
You either won't or you will
Just keep it one hundred with a player baby tell me how you feel
C'mon
[Chorus One: Mya]
People always talkin' bout - they be sayin they be sayin they be sayin
Your reputation - how you got a lot of hoooooes, but I don't really give a
I don't care what you did to them! Just be good to me (be good to me)
Just be good to me (just be good to me) just be GOOD!
[Bun B]
You want me to be good, then I'ma be the best
And I'ma give you top shelf baby nuttin less
Front do' to the, front row
Whatever, you need just let, Bun know (Bun know)
First class flights, penthouse suites
You want sushi? We go to Japan to eat
You want pasta? We fly to Milan
That's how it is in the life of a don
We eat filet mignon in Pa-ris
That's how it is when you rollin with a G
Your man want it but he ain't thar rich
Trust me baby I can scratch that itch
Never call you a bitch when you act like a lady
You carry yourself like a woman and we gravy
Ain't no maybe, I know I can
Put the whole wide world in the palm of your hand baby
[Chorus Two: Mya]
People always tellin me - they be sayin they be sayin they be
That you're a player
I don't care 'bout them other girls! Just be good to me (be good to me)
Just be good to me (just be good to me) just be GOOD!
[Mya]
I said, I'll hold you down when you need me
I'm gonna be, I'm gon' always be around
I'll give you all my love
If you treat me right baby, ooooooooooh
[Bun B]
Girl anything you wishin I can make it come true
Have you lookin like a million dollars when you come through
Wit'cha Louboutin shoes, or Jimmy Chu's
Giuseppe, Zanetti or whatever you wanna do (you wanna do)
Louis V, Dior, Prada or Gucci (Gucci)
Richard Roy, Chanel, or maybe Coogi (Coogi)
Dolce & Gabbana or Valentino's (Tino's)
Ferragamo, Mark Jacobs, Malandrino's (Drino's)
Maybe Fendi or Yves St. Laurent
Versace, KLS, or whatever that you want
It ain't a thang to buy you some Vera Wang
You gotta look like a Queen for you to be with the Kang
The fancy cars with the butterfly do's
Big mansion with the marble on the flo's
The world is yo's but here's the key
When I'm bein good to you, be good II me
[Chorus One + Chorus Two with ad libs]
[Mya]
In the morning
In the evening baby
If you treat me good I'ma gonna keep on comin to ya
La la la la la lahhh
La la la la la lahhh
You're all that I know, just be good to me
Underground Thang Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Chamillionaire, Pimp C)
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Bun B]
It's Bun B the king of the trill
And I'm bringing the steel
Bringing the max it bitches of fact
It's that gangsta shit I'm bringing it back
I went from slanging the crack
To slanging the tracks and slanging my skills
Since ninety-two and slanging it still
So bring who you feel bring who you feeling
Bring them around and I'ma lay them down
It's just another sound boy killing
Rude boy wanna test
Better make sure rude boy got on his vest
Walk with a bunch of bananas on his chest
These monkey niggas on that monkey shit
Best to evolve or
I'm bouts to go gorilla and kill them with a revolver
So go on pimping you's a chip and I'ma blue bat
You ain't ready for the blowback
Bitch and you already knew that
So bring who you wanna bring on
I'ma go king kong
And squeeze him 'til he come up off his cream like a ding dong
Standing on top of the towers the trans go beating my chest
So it's best you and your mans know
I'm an underground king
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Pimp C]
I'm an underground king for life
?In my shoes like hittin in your wife?
Tattoo that's you *man is an island*
Nigga you the pig you buy the Q
Sounds scan short bro
Bump it right like tylo
Fake price buy the ice
Use it for the Tony Snow
Ball-faced liar try to call me a snitch
I did four in population with a ball-faced bitch
If it wasn't for that Bun
Niggas might not know my name no more
But every time they gave him a mic
He told them hos to let me go
Reject tripper sucking on nipple
Gripping the grain playing with cock
Pull that zipper she ain't twister
She getting money fast when it's in her mouth
Nigga you know what I'm about
You who sight it I'm gonna ride
I run the south use my highs
I tell the truth even when I lie
Atlanta is the country
Them Georgia boy's cool
It's all you out of town faggot niggas fucking up all the rules
That ain't blow that's recon
That ain't dro that's popcorn
You fucking right they coming back
Like you selling it cheap cause they stepped on, bitch
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Chamillionaire]
No reprise for the cars
I'm staying up in the foreign
Wanna wake up my neighbors
And the other cooks in the morning
If being Bun wasn't touring
I swear the game would be boring
If being fake was a felony
All y'all rappers be starring in America's Most Wanted
I missed that Pimp and that Pac
So it seems that me and Bun B
Is the realest breed you got
My paper chase getting faster
I'm even beating the clock
When it comes to G's the tick tock
Is gonna get beat to the dock
I gave birth to the hustle
So let my fetus be shown
When I pull out them baby benjamins
And I skeet on your dome
I'm secreting the dough
So don't leave your woman alone
Or I'll turn my dick to a dollar
And give your woman a loan
My presence on Texas streets
Is something that's easy to spot
I'll assassinate concrete
For the G's I'm bleeding the block
Boys'll see me on swingers
And think it's easy to plot
But I bet them boys that's behind me
They gonna be beaming up scott
Hear me out
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Bun B]
It's Bun B the king of the trill
And I'm bringing the steel
Bringing the max it bitches of fact
It's that gangsta shit I'm bringing it back
I went from slanging the crack
To slanging the tracks and slanging my skills
Since ninety-two and slanging it still
So bring who you feel bring who you feeling
Bring them around and I'ma lay them down
It's just another sound boy killing
Rude boy wanna test
Better make sure rude boy got on his vest
Walk with a bunch of bananas on his chest
These monkey niggas on that monkey shit
Best to evolve or
I'm bouts to go gorilla and kill them with a revolver
So go on pimping you's a chip and I'ma blue bat
You ain't ready for the blowback
Bitch and you already knew that
So bring who you wanna bring on
I'ma go king kong
And squeeze him 'til he come up off his cream like a ding dong
Standing on top of the towers the trans go beating my chest
So it's best you and your mans know
I'm an underground king
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Pimp C]
I'm an underground king for life
?In my shoes like hittin in your wife?
Tattoo that's you *man is an island*
Nigga you the pig you buy the Q
Sounds scan short bro
Bump it right like tylo
Fake price buy the ice
Use it for the Tony Snow
Ball-faced liar try to call me a snitch
I did four in population with a ball-faced bitch
If it wasn't for that Bun
Niggas might not know my name no more
But every time they gave him a mic
He told them hos to let me go
Reject tripper sucking on nipple
Gripping the grain playing with cock
Pull that zipper she ain't twister
She getting money fast when it's in her mouth
Nigga you know what I'm about
You who sight it I'm gonna ride
I run the south use my highs
I tell the truth even when I lie
Atlanta is the country
Them Georgia boy's cool
It's all you out of town faggot niggas fucking up all the rules
That ain't blow that's recon
That ain't dro that's popcorn
You fucking right they coming back
Like you selling it cheap cause they stepped on, bitch
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
[Chamillionaire]
No reprise for the cars
I'm staying up in the foreign
Wanna wake up my neighbors
And the other cooks in the morning
If being Bun wasn't touring
I swear the game would be boring
If being fake was a felony
All y'all rappers be starring in America's Most Wanted
I missed that Pimp and that Pac
So it seems that me and Bun B
Is the realest breed you got
My paper chase getting faster
I'm even beating the clock
When it comes to G's the tick tock
Is gonna get beat to the dock
I gave birth to the hustle
So let my fetus be shown
When I pull out them baby benjamins
And I skeet on your dome
I'm secreting the dough
So don't leave your woman alone
Or I'll turn my dick to a dollar
And give your woman a loan
My presence on Texas streets
Is something that's easy to spot
I'll assassinate concrete
For the G's I'm bleeding the block
Boys'll see me on swingers
And think it's easy to plot
But I bet them boys that's behind me
They gonna be beaming up scott
Hear me out
[Chorus: Chamillionaire]
Can't knock the hustle man
Don't hate the player hate the game
Gotta love it man
Catch me flipping gripping grain in the turning lane
Trunk on bang
Cause it's an underground thing
Cause I'm an underground king
If I Die II Night Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Lyfe Jennings, Young Buck)
[Chorus 2X: Lyfe Jennings]
Ohhhh if a nigga die tonight
Make sure I didn't die in vain, and they feel my pain
Make sure my niggaz ride for me
Or comin up on the side of me, side of me
[Bun B]
Man I'm a real trill nigga (nigga) I been out on them blocks
With them hustlers (hustlers) them dealers (dealers) and killers sellin rocks
Put in work in round the clock from when the sun went down
'til it came back up and night came back around (around)
I did a lot of shit them late nights for the dough
Robbin niggaz on the low (low) laughed at 'em then I go (go)
Sometimes it went smooth and nobody got hurt
And sometimes I had to leave a nigga's dick up in the dirt
I ain't proud of what I did and if I could go back in time (time)
I'd try to find another way instead of packin nines
Totin K's and holdin macs (macs)
But we know time ain't rollin back
and hungry hyenas, they ain't foldin jack
So on these cold and black streets, wolves keep huntin
And a young black man can lose his life over nothin
If I gotta go, please let it be for somethin real
Cause this bullshit hood shit is gettin niggaz killed on the real
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
Well if a deal goes dirty or the counts don't match (match)
Or if I catch a motherfucker dippin in the back (dippin in the back)
Say if a nigga disrespect me or my fam
And we take it to the streets and let the guns go blam
I don't really give a damn (damn) or really know whatever's gon' come (come)
And I'ma represent where I'm from (represent where I'm from)
Man I don't wanna die (die) but I ain't scared to (I ain't scared to)
Shit I just wanna make sure that I'm prepared to (I'm prepared to)
Can't leave without a couple tickets in the stands
So my wife, and my momma and my chil'ren got cans (chil'ren got cans)
Cause once I'm gone who gon' take care of my kids? (take care of my kids)
And do the same thangs for 'em that I did
Man I'd rather do a bid (bid)
At the least they can see me behind the glass (glass)
Instead I'm reminiscin 'bout the past (about the past)
Nigga don't know what he got, until he passes on
So let him tell 'em that he love 'em 'fore his ass is gone
[Chorus]
[Young Buck]
We trappin hard right across from the graveyard
I just pray to God I don't have to work a day job
Niggaz gettin robbed so I'm ridin with my A-R
They are, not sendin tape what I done paid for (no)
Walkin through the bricks on my Jena 6 shit
Like if you ain't from around here, you was gettin hit (c'mon)
Send a O.G. some flicks, make they time go by quick (hey)
You surprised what some pictures in the penitentiary did (yeah)
We survived but most of us die for some bullshit
Go to church but the devil's standin on the pulpit (damn)
Niggaz lied just to kick it (what) swear to God they got a meal ticket
Then they call you and they 'bout to get evicted (I know)
A Underground King, I've been one ever since I was sixteen (c'mon)
Pimp and Bun'll tell you just what Buck mean (what's up)
A street nigga livin the street dream, I seen (for sho')
My whole team go to the feds or get a hole in the head
This what I said (yeah)
[Chorus]
Ohhhh if a nigga die tonight
Make sure I didn't die in vain, and they feel my pain
Make sure my niggaz ride for me
Or comin up on the side of me, side of me
[Bun B]
Man I'm a real trill nigga (nigga) I been out on them blocks
With them hustlers (hustlers) them dealers (dealers) and killers sellin rocks
Put in work in round the clock from when the sun went down
'til it came back up and night came back around (around)
I did a lot of shit them late nights for the dough
Robbin niggaz on the low (low) laughed at 'em then I go (go)
Sometimes it went smooth and nobody got hurt
And sometimes I had to leave a nigga's dick up in the dirt
I ain't proud of what I did and if I could go back in time (time)
I'd try to find another way instead of packin nines
Totin K's and holdin macs (macs)
But we know time ain't rollin back
and hungry hyenas, they ain't foldin jack
So on these cold and black streets, wolves keep huntin
And a young black man can lose his life over nothin
If I gotta go, please let it be for somethin real
Cause this bullshit hood shit is gettin niggaz killed on the real
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
Well if a deal goes dirty or the counts don't match (match)
Or if I catch a motherfucker dippin in the back (dippin in the back)
Say if a nigga disrespect me or my fam
And we take it to the streets and let the guns go blam
I don't really give a damn (damn) or really know whatever's gon' come (come)
And I'ma represent where I'm from (represent where I'm from)
Man I don't wanna die (die) but I ain't scared to (I ain't scared to)
Shit I just wanna make sure that I'm prepared to (I'm prepared to)
Can't leave without a couple tickets in the stands
So my wife, and my momma and my chil'ren got cans (chil'ren got cans)
Cause once I'm gone who gon' take care of my kids? (take care of my kids)
And do the same thangs for 'em that I did
Man I'd rather do a bid (bid)
At the least they can see me behind the glass (glass)
Instead I'm reminiscin 'bout the past (about the past)
Nigga don't know what he got, until he passes on
So let him tell 'em that he love 'em 'fore his ass is gone
[Chorus]
[Young Buck]
We trappin hard right across from the graveyard
I just pray to God I don't have to work a day job
Niggaz gettin robbed so I'm ridin with my A-R
They are, not sendin tape what I done paid for (no)
Walkin through the bricks on my Jena 6 shit
Like if you ain't from around here, you was gettin hit (c'mon)
Send a O.G. some flicks, make they time go by quick (hey)
You surprised what some pictures in the penitentiary did (yeah)
We survived but most of us die for some bullshit
Go to church but the devil's standin on the pulpit (damn)
Niggaz lied just to kick it (what) swear to God they got a meal ticket
Then they call you and they 'bout to get evicted (I know)
A Underground King, I've been one ever since I was sixteen (c'mon)
Pimp and Bun'll tell you just what Buck mean (what's up)
A street nigga livin the street dream, I seen (for sho')
My whole team go to the feds or get a hole in the head
This what I said (yeah)
[Chorus]
Another Soldier Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Mddl Fngz, Cobe)
[Bun B:]
Remorse
Vengeance
Lost of a loved one
Relative in commander to the game of life, in which one chose to adapt to as a gangsta
Enter my mind
Fill my heart
My emotional pain
Can you feel it?
Naw
Can you feel it?
If you haven't experienced that nature of life, it's gutta
[Chorus: Cobe]
I got this drama
Don't worry momma
Cause I got the armor
On my back, when I
Drive through the streets
Everybody on me
Tryin to take my life
But I don't give a
What about that
Grip that thang
Cock that back
You don't wanna be (GONE)
Another goner (GONE)
In the game (GONE)
Another soldier (GONE)
In a grave (GONE)
Bendin' corners (GONE)
Finna bang (GONE)
Another soldier (LONG GONE)
In the grave (grave [x7])
[Bun B:]
We are the mighty Middle Fingaz
We do not accept hate
Love us or die
[Mddl Fngz:]
Yeah fatboy slow, but a nigga ain't quick
Ho limped through the door, lay a nigga on his d*ck
Open up tha door, nigga standing like "shit"
Fifteen full bricks, same price for a hit
Nigga I done done it, it ain't gotta be a lick
And if I'm plexin with you patna then the choppa gon piss
Shootin up ya corna make a sound like "Swish"
But I low so gat cause the chopper don't miss.
[Bun B:]
No the choppa gon hit
Bound to leave ya dome split
Lose ya bodily functions
Have me think you gon shit
Middle fingaz, strong click
Bun B, the strong spit
Put you six feet under
Why not have a long sit
Long walk, short pier
Mane have a long flip
Got the streets on lock
And got the yola on whip
Tell momma we comin home so don't trip
[Mddl Fngz:]
If I Tee, don't worry bout me
Momma I'm a G
I know how to handle niggas tryin to come up on me
Tryin to run up on me
Thinkin you gon try me
Shit in a bag
Drinkin through a IV
So appreciate ya breath
While you got some left
Ya life's a bitch
They got permanent PMS
And my only fear of death is reincarnation
So it ain't shit for me to make you niggas ER patients
Another soldier in the grave
[Chorus]
[B.A.N.D.I.T:]
Two nines, four clips
Prayin that you niggas trip
Lookin for some trouble
Finna bust you niggas bubble
And I don't give a fuck about your happy meal mug
We can go toe to toe, or trade these slugs
So catch a square nigga
And I won't budge
Don't plea bargain now, nigga save it for the judge
I might have you niggas lookin like a strawberry fanta
Did so much, done burned myself, retire my bandanna
SOUTHWEST got them soldiers
Some movin doja
Some movin X
But they mostly movin yola
With guns in tha holsta
We never leave tha toasta
Face could wind up on a rest in peace poster
Rest in peace? No suh
Pissin on ya gravesite
Then get real nigga with it and go fuck ya wife
So think twice
One for you and ya momma life
Band I-T, shoot the soldiers like I shoot tha dice
[Bun B:]
For my nigga Bad Ass Bam, I'll open ya head
For Young Lo, I'll let that forty-fo fill ya with lead
For Big Munsta, I'll pull out the Thompson and straight squeeze it
Behind Sean Wee I'll cut you off at the knees
For the Band I-T, I'll close range ya with the mac
And for K.S.O lot, I'll put the glock to ya back
Middle Finga, this ain't a act
This uncut coke
Don't ever play us for a joke
You'll get ya bitch-ass smoked
We go for broke
[Chorus]
Remorse
Vengeance
Lost of a loved one
Relative in commander to the game of life, in which one chose to adapt to as a gangsta
Enter my mind
Fill my heart
My emotional pain
Can you feel it?
Naw
Can you feel it?
If you haven't experienced that nature of life, it's gutta
[Chorus: Cobe]
I got this drama
Don't worry momma
Cause I got the armor
On my back, when I
Drive through the streets
Everybody on me
Tryin to take my life
But I don't give a
What about that
Grip that thang
Cock that back
You don't wanna be (GONE)
Another goner (GONE)
In the game (GONE)
Another soldier (GONE)
In a grave (GONE)
Bendin' corners (GONE)
Finna bang (GONE)
Another soldier (LONG GONE)
In the grave (grave [x7])
[Bun B:]
We are the mighty Middle Fingaz
We do not accept hate
Love us or die
[Mddl Fngz:]
Yeah fatboy slow, but a nigga ain't quick
Ho limped through the door, lay a nigga on his d*ck
Open up tha door, nigga standing like "shit"
Fifteen full bricks, same price for a hit
Nigga I done done it, it ain't gotta be a lick
And if I'm plexin with you patna then the choppa gon piss
Shootin up ya corna make a sound like "Swish"
But I low so gat cause the chopper don't miss.
[Bun B:]
No the choppa gon hit
Bound to leave ya dome split
Lose ya bodily functions
Have me think you gon shit
Middle fingaz, strong click
Bun B, the strong spit
Put you six feet under
Why not have a long sit
Long walk, short pier
Mane have a long flip
Got the streets on lock
And got the yola on whip
Tell momma we comin home so don't trip
[Mddl Fngz:]
If I Tee, don't worry bout me
Momma I'm a G
I know how to handle niggas tryin to come up on me
Tryin to run up on me
Thinkin you gon try me
Shit in a bag
Drinkin through a IV
So appreciate ya breath
While you got some left
Ya life's a bitch
They got permanent PMS
And my only fear of death is reincarnation
So it ain't shit for me to make you niggas ER patients
Another soldier in the grave
[Chorus]
[B.A.N.D.I.T:]
Two nines, four clips
Prayin that you niggas trip
Lookin for some trouble
Finna bust you niggas bubble
And I don't give a fuck about your happy meal mug
We can go toe to toe, or trade these slugs
So catch a square nigga
And I won't budge
Don't plea bargain now, nigga save it for the judge
I might have you niggas lookin like a strawberry fanta
Did so much, done burned myself, retire my bandanna
SOUTHWEST got them soldiers
Some movin doja
Some movin X
But they mostly movin yola
With guns in tha holsta
We never leave tha toasta
Face could wind up on a rest in peace poster
Rest in peace? No suh
Pissin on ya gravesite
Then get real nigga with it and go fuck ya wife
So think twice
One for you and ya momma life
Band I-T, shoot the soldiers like I shoot tha dice
[Bun B:]
For my nigga Bad Ass Bam, I'll open ya head
For Young Lo, I'll let that forty-fo fill ya with lead
For Big Munsta, I'll pull out the Thompson and straight squeeze it
Behind Sean Wee I'll cut you off at the knees
For the Band I-T, I'll close range ya with the mac
And for K.S.O lot, I'll put the glock to ya back
Middle Finga, this ain't a act
This uncut coke
Don't ever play us for a joke
You'll get ya bitch-ass smoked
We go for broke
[Chorus]
If It Was Up II Me Lyrics – Bun-B
I hear we livin in the last days it's revelation and you best get right with God or else hell is waitin the world is conin to an end
everyday it's a storm or a flood or tsunami this shit aint the norm we got Katrina and Rita
minds keep collapsing wit tha fires and mud slides I'm like what's happnin?
Got the kids in the school getting raped and molested Underfunded under protected no wonder they tested
in the lowest damn percentage rate
and my city damn near the lowest in the state you can equate that to the state funds that aint breakin down right rich districts get more and poor ones get less and that jus don't sound right
so im finna pound right on the doors of my city hall
and kick them hos down
they killin' my city yall we need to get my people back to where they should be
and since nobody else gon do it it's gon have to be me
First of all the projects is fucked up and it ain't jus with the drugs we got more problems than the dealers and thugs.
They usein lead base paint and asbestos is killin us we tell them to fix it up but jus aint feelin us.
They'd rather kick us out and tear it down to the ground, so they can put up a parking lot a mall or some condos.
Condemn the whole place cuz a few sell crack shit the rest aint do nothing wrong
what the fucks up with that? They say that one rotten apple can spoil the whole bunch
but we talkin bout some people not apples this aint lunch. Make me wanna punch a politician dead in his face.
You say you represent my district, get yo ass on the case.
"Development is good for the hood," yea that's what you tellin us but bitch you on the payroll of the builders and developers.
Fuck what you seellin us pipe dreams fa suckers, you can take that round the corner to them other motherfuckers
So much youth they sacrifice just to live in paradise play they tricks and tell they lies (I know)
it's said to see how they treat the poor have so much and still want more I see my people every day on the floor
It's time to educate the people mayne free school and college so everybody cross the board can get the same knowledge.
Education leads to jobs and jobs kill poverty and no more poverty means we makein money obviously.
Everybody gettin money, everybody smilin. Motherfucker's aint eatin them motherfuckersf wildin.
Matter fact speakin of eatin lets feed the homeless in America let these other folks handle they own shit.
How imma clean your house and mine still dirty? How imam feed yo kids while mine sit thirsty?
And speakin of the kids we need to spend more time wit em. Can't turn them loose in the streets cuz they dyin in em.
And all this naked head sex man you trippin fuck love im lovein life you aint gon catch ya boi slippin.
You say ya boi trippin im jus keepin it G, cuz you can see how good the world would be if it was up to me
everyday it's a storm or a flood or tsunami this shit aint the norm we got Katrina and Rita
minds keep collapsing wit tha fires and mud slides I'm like what's happnin?
Got the kids in the school getting raped and molested Underfunded under protected no wonder they tested
in the lowest damn percentage rate
and my city damn near the lowest in the state you can equate that to the state funds that aint breakin down right rich districts get more and poor ones get less and that jus don't sound right
so im finna pound right on the doors of my city hall
and kick them hos down
they killin' my city yall we need to get my people back to where they should be
and since nobody else gon do it it's gon have to be me
First of all the projects is fucked up and it ain't jus with the drugs we got more problems than the dealers and thugs.
They usein lead base paint and asbestos is killin us we tell them to fix it up but jus aint feelin us.
They'd rather kick us out and tear it down to the ground, so they can put up a parking lot a mall or some condos.
Condemn the whole place cuz a few sell crack shit the rest aint do nothing wrong
what the fucks up with that? They say that one rotten apple can spoil the whole bunch
but we talkin bout some people not apples this aint lunch. Make me wanna punch a politician dead in his face.
You say you represent my district, get yo ass on the case.
"Development is good for the hood," yea that's what you tellin us but bitch you on the payroll of the builders and developers.
Fuck what you seellin us pipe dreams fa suckers, you can take that round the corner to them other motherfuckers
So much youth they sacrifice just to live in paradise play they tricks and tell they lies (I know)
it's said to see how they treat the poor have so much and still want more I see my people every day on the floor
It's time to educate the people mayne free school and college so everybody cross the board can get the same knowledge.
Education leads to jobs and jobs kill poverty and no more poverty means we makein money obviously.
Everybody gettin money, everybody smilin. Motherfucker's aint eatin them motherfuckersf wildin.
Matter fact speakin of eatin lets feed the homeless in America let these other folks handle they own shit.
How imma clean your house and mine still dirty? How imam feed yo kids while mine sit thirsty?
And speakin of the kids we need to spend more time wit em. Can't turn them loose in the streets cuz they dyin in em.
And all this naked head sex man you trippin fuck love im lovein life you aint gon catch ya boi slippin.
You say ya boi trippin im jus keepin it G, cuz you can see how good the world would be if it was up to me
Trill Talk Lyrics – Bun-B
Yo, this song right here
Dedicated to the best that ever did it, my little brother
Just so the whole world know
Man I love you, I miss you, I can't wait to see you again man
I know you watchin over me from above man
For real, got a real angel lookin out
Dedicated to the best that ever did it, my little brother
Just so the whole world know
Man I love you, I miss you, I can't wait to see you again man
I know you watchin over me from above man
For real, got a real angel lookin out
Angel In The Sky Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Razah)
[Chorus: Razah]
There's an angel in the sky watchin over me
Watchin over me yeahhhh, ooh-ooh-oooooh
There's an angel in the sky watchin over me
Watchin over me yeahhhh, ooh-ooh-oooooh
[Bun B]
They say it's always darkest before the dawn (before the dawn)
And that you don't know what you got until it's gone (until it's gone)
I thought I knew what I had but I was wrong
And that's why I gots to write this song, now c'mon (now c'mon)
Say man I thought it would of been a long time for us (time for us)
And many more years on the grind for us (grind for us)
I thought the future held a lot for us both and it was brighter
We were super tight but finna be super tighter (super tighter)
I guess I just assumed we had more time
For us to make more music (music) and write more rhymes (rhymes)
But never in my life could I ever have seen
that I would ever have to lose the other half of my team (for real)
You take away the glitter, the gold and the gleam
Say man I wonder to myself what does it all really mean
Nothin without the people you love
Say man I miss my brother, but I know he's lookin down from above
And there's an angel
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
It all began on Shreveport Ave., sittin off in the den
Makin beats and puttin paper to pen
We was determined to win, and you couldn't tell us different
Mama West was cool with it but Monroe kept trippin (he kept trippin)
It seems just like yesterday sometimes
Sittin in ya bedroom (huh) writin dumb rhymes (man)
You makin beats on the insonic (sonic)
And we was smokin dirt weed cause it wasn't no chronic (wasn't no chronic)
I still remember when we started the crew
It was me, Mitchell, Queen, Jamal, Jackson and you
Started out as 4BM but then we ended with two
That's when we introduced the world to the U
to the G to the K, Underground Kings, DJ Byrd
Pimp C and Bun B, we kept it G, say word (say word)
Who woulda known back in '92
In 2008 I'd have to write a song sayin I miss you but it's true
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
Just for the record let me go ahead and say
I love my brother Pimp C and man I miss him every day
Yeah my heart still hurts (hurts) and the pain's still fresh (fresh)
But I'ma put God first, to keep that pressure off my chest
And remind me that I'm blessed to have had him, as a friend (friend)
A ride or die homie that was with me 'til the end ('til the end)
Real talk, man we was closer than kin
And I know, that I'll never have a partner like that again (like that again)
So Chad Butler I just want you to know
I keep ya memory close, I'm never lettin it go (lettin it go)
And they gon' always remember that you was here mayne (mayne)
Cause I'ma make 'em remember, that's why I'm here mayne (mayne)
Yeah it's still hard (hard) and I still cry (cry)
But you and God keep me strong so I'ma still try (try)
Reppin this UGK now won't I (huh)
Cause through your music you live forever so Trill (Trill) don't die
[Razah]
I know your watchin over me
Last night I saw you in my dream
At the crossroads I'll see you there
At the crossroads, I'll see you there
My friend, my brother 'til the end
Can't wait to see you again
Save a place in heaven for me
Save a place in heaven for me
[Chorus]
There's an angel in the sky watchin over me
Watchin over me yeahhhh, ooh-ooh-oooooh
There's an angel in the sky watchin over me
Watchin over me yeahhhh, ooh-ooh-oooooh
[Bun B]
They say it's always darkest before the dawn (before the dawn)
And that you don't know what you got until it's gone (until it's gone)
I thought I knew what I had but I was wrong
And that's why I gots to write this song, now c'mon (now c'mon)
Say man I thought it would of been a long time for us (time for us)
And many more years on the grind for us (grind for us)
I thought the future held a lot for us both and it was brighter
We were super tight but finna be super tighter (super tighter)
I guess I just assumed we had more time
For us to make more music (music) and write more rhymes (rhymes)
But never in my life could I ever have seen
that I would ever have to lose the other half of my team (for real)
You take away the glitter, the gold and the gleam
Say man I wonder to myself what does it all really mean
Nothin without the people you love
Say man I miss my brother, but I know he's lookin down from above
And there's an angel
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
It all began on Shreveport Ave., sittin off in the den
Makin beats and puttin paper to pen
We was determined to win, and you couldn't tell us different
Mama West was cool with it but Monroe kept trippin (he kept trippin)
It seems just like yesterday sometimes
Sittin in ya bedroom (huh) writin dumb rhymes (man)
You makin beats on the insonic (sonic)
And we was smokin dirt weed cause it wasn't no chronic (wasn't no chronic)
I still remember when we started the crew
It was me, Mitchell, Queen, Jamal, Jackson and you
Started out as 4BM but then we ended with two
That's when we introduced the world to the U
to the G to the K, Underground Kings, DJ Byrd
Pimp C and Bun B, we kept it G, say word (say word)
Who woulda known back in '92
In 2008 I'd have to write a song sayin I miss you but it's true
[Chorus]
[Bun B]
Just for the record let me go ahead and say
I love my brother Pimp C and man I miss him every day
Yeah my heart still hurts (hurts) and the pain's still fresh (fresh)
But I'ma put God first, to keep that pressure off my chest
And remind me that I'm blessed to have had him, as a friend (friend)
A ride or die homie that was with me 'til the end ('til the end)
Real talk, man we was closer than kin
And I know, that I'll never have a partner like that again (like that again)
So Chad Butler I just want you to know
I keep ya memory close, I'm never lettin it go (lettin it go)
And they gon' always remember that you was here mayne (mayne)
Cause I'ma make 'em remember, that's why I'm here mayne (mayne)
Yeah it's still hard (hard) and I still cry (cry)
But you and God keep me strong so I'ma still try (try)
Reppin this UGK now won't I (huh)
Cause through your music you live forever so Trill (Trill) don't die
[Razah]
I know your watchin over me
Last night I saw you in my dream
At the crossroads I'll see you there
At the crossroads, I'll see you there
My friend, my brother 'til the end
Can't wait to see you again
Save a place in heaven for me
Save a place in heaven for me
[Chorus]
II Trill Talk Lyrics – Bun-B
We all love you
We miss you
Chadler Mon Butler
The best that ever did it
Still UGK for life!
We miss you
Chadler Mon Butler
The best that ever did it
Still UGK for life!
Keep It 100 Lyrics – Bun-B
[Hook]
"Keep it 100" All day and all night
Nigga, any time you see me I'ma keep it super tight
I'm an Underground King reppin UGK
Don't give a damn what a motherfucker say, I'ma keep it...
"Keep it 100" All night and all day
Nigga, any time you see me mayne I'm reppin PA
This is UGK for life, long live Pimp C
And I'ma never let a nigga pimp me, I'ma keep it...
"Keep it 100"
[Verse 1]
Cause it's all that I've ever known
All that I've ever been, all that I've ever shown
Get your shit together clone, build a better prototype
You lookin like a mop (mop), and I'm lookin for a flo' to wipe
I heard your album mayne if that's what you call it
Another gangster fairytale and for that shit we ain't fallin
All you're talkin bout it is slangin, bangin, bussin and ballin
But I ain't seen yo scary ass at All Star in New Orleans (All Star at New Orleans nigga)
I'm tired mayne this shit is gettin older than Moses
Pussy niggas always poutin with poses
But mayne all it really shows is how hard you ain't
A nigga bust yo ass in the mouth, you probably faint
Not from the power of the punch but the shock (but the shock)
Cause you a coward and niggas gon' devour your lunch
A bunch of niggas done tried (tried) but ain't too many done it like me
It's Bun B'der, a G, and I'ma keep it 100
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Cause that's exactly what the trill do
Ain't nobody tellin me what I won't or I will do
If I don't feel you, you lucky that I don't kill you
Leave you leakin till you moult in your meal dude, for real dude
I got the skill to, don't make me have to show it
Cause it'll be over before you know it
You get one shot and I suggest you don't blow it
If I do it, I overdo it, reap that you gon' sew it (you reap that you gon' sew it)
I'm a revolutionary black fister
You fuckin with fire, fuck around and get a blister
I fuck with a father, then fuck around and hit a sister
Underground King motherfucker, call me Mister (Mister what?)
Kilogram, Mister Woodgrain, Mister Brick (brick)
And unless you the misses, get of the mister dick (dick)
Cause this the shit that have these motherfuckers runnin for the hills
From the King of the Trill, cause I keep it 100
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Cause nowadays motherfuckers lie (lie)
Some to your face, some can't even look you in the eye (eye)
Some in this place, some just left and some is comin by (by)
A little later (later) probably a little hater (hater)
And they gon' still debate us (bate us) try to prove they the greatest
And they still gon' be wronger than fuck, so holler later
I'm leavin, I'm not a waiter (waiter), but I'll end up servin you
They try to step up to the likes of me, why the nerve of you (the nerve of you)
Well I never and I do declare
I'm bout to fuck the game up so it's best you prepare (best you prepare)
Put on your fear cause I finna be spittin (finna be spittin)
That hot fire so you better bring mittens (better bring mittens)
Cause youse a pussy and yo partner is kittens
I do him and when I'm done he'll be like no he didn't
Get your toilet paper nigga cause I finna be shittin
Diuretic on haters with no quitin and I'ma keep it 100
[Hook]
"Keep it 100" All day and all night
Nigga, any time you see me I'ma keep it super tight
I'm an Underground King reppin UGK
Don't give a damn what a motherfucker say, I'ma keep it...
"Keep it 100" All night and all day
Nigga, any time you see me mayne I'm reppin PA
This is UGK for life, long live Pimp C
And I'ma never let a nigga pimp me, I'ma keep it...
"Keep it 100"
[Verse 1]
Cause it's all that I've ever known
All that I've ever been, all that I've ever shown
Get your shit together clone, build a better prototype
You lookin like a mop (mop), and I'm lookin for a flo' to wipe
I heard your album mayne if that's what you call it
Another gangster fairytale and for that shit we ain't fallin
All you're talkin bout it is slangin, bangin, bussin and ballin
But I ain't seen yo scary ass at All Star in New Orleans (All Star at New Orleans nigga)
I'm tired mayne this shit is gettin older than Moses
Pussy niggas always poutin with poses
But mayne all it really shows is how hard you ain't
A nigga bust yo ass in the mouth, you probably faint
Not from the power of the punch but the shock (but the shock)
Cause you a coward and niggas gon' devour your lunch
A bunch of niggas done tried (tried) but ain't too many done it like me
It's Bun B'der, a G, and I'ma keep it 100
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Cause that's exactly what the trill do
Ain't nobody tellin me what I won't or I will do
If I don't feel you, you lucky that I don't kill you
Leave you leakin till you moult in your meal dude, for real dude
I got the skill to, don't make me have to show it
Cause it'll be over before you know it
You get one shot and I suggest you don't blow it
If I do it, I overdo it, reap that you gon' sew it (you reap that you gon' sew it)
I'm a revolutionary black fister
You fuckin with fire, fuck around and get a blister
I fuck with a father, then fuck around and hit a sister
Underground King motherfucker, call me Mister (Mister what?)
Kilogram, Mister Woodgrain, Mister Brick (brick)
And unless you the misses, get of the mister dick (dick)
Cause this the shit that have these motherfuckers runnin for the hills
From the King of the Trill, cause I keep it 100
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Cause nowadays motherfuckers lie (lie)
Some to your face, some can't even look you in the eye (eye)
Some in this place, some just left and some is comin by (by)
A little later (later) probably a little hater (hater)
And they gon' still debate us (bate us) try to prove they the greatest
And they still gon' be wronger than fuck, so holler later
I'm leavin, I'm not a waiter (waiter), but I'll end up servin you
They try to step up to the likes of me, why the nerve of you (the nerve of you)
Well I never and I do declare
I'm bout to fuck the game up so it's best you prepare (best you prepare)
Put on your fear cause I finna be spittin (finna be spittin)
That hot fire so you better bring mittens (better bring mittens)
Cause youse a pussy and yo partner is kittens
I do him and when I'm done he'll be like no he didn't
Get your toilet paper nigga cause I finna be shittin
Diuretic on haters with no quitin and I'ma keep it 100
[Hook]
City Of The Swang Lyrics – Bun-B (feat. Mike Jones, Slim Thug)
[X2 - second time screwed]
[Bun B:] City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
[Slim Thug:] City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
[Bun B:] City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
[Mike Jones:] Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane
[Bun B]
I'm from the city of the swangs, mayne the land of the stains
This is Candy Paint County (county), I'm known as the game
Where them trunks on bang (bang), the candy paint drip (drip)
The trunk knock and bang and the grain gettin gripped
You come down here on the trip - don't let the wrong words slip
Cause them heaters on they hip will leave your Levi's ripped
This is H-Town baby (man), the rockets, the Texans
And the strobes so you hoes best not come down here flexin (down here flexin)
Boys think we on some country Alabama shit (bama shit)
Till that hammer spit and you or your man are hit (hold up)
So watch your manners cause we packin them bananas
For you boys actin monkey - we can go and make it funky
From the 5th ward, 4th ward, acres to the tray
Southside to the West, all the way to BA (hey)
The sixteen slidin, fifty-nine flippin (flippin)
Forty-five flossin and nineteen tippin in the
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, lane
[Screwed]
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
[Mike Jones talking over screwed section]
Aaaaaaay
Corey Mo you a fool for this one homie
OG Bun, I see ya baby
[Mike Jones]
I'm the city of the candy paint, city of the swang
Ice Age and team, yeah we run the game
I got my eighty-fours tippin, wood grain I'm grippin
I'm swayin lane to lane with my pinky ring glistenin
And on my H-Town set, all my cars I wet
Me, Paul and Slim Thug made em give us our respect
Can't forget about Chamillionaire, my boy Lil' Flip
It you hatin on H-Town, (Motherfucker eat a dick)
Scarface and Rap-A-Lot, yeah they opened up the doors
Now we lettin the world know how we roll eighty-fours
Scarface and Rap-A-Lot, yeah they opened up the doors
Now we lettin the world know how we roll eighty-fours
If you ever in my city chillin on a Sunday night
Come to club Ice Age and Mike Jones will have you right
If you ever in my city chillin on a Sunday night
Come to club Ice Age and Mike Jones will have you right
I'm from the city of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane
[Screwed]
I'm from the city of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
[Slim Thug]
{Slim Thugger motherfucker!}
I'm from the city of the swang, grain grippers and the sippers
Candy slab flippers choppin boys like clippers
Gotta represent my town so I'm ridin top down (top down)
With the trunk in the air showin off my surround
H-Town niggas roll hard on the board
I be up in your hood and drive all in your yard (what?)
Blue boy boss still reppin that Texas (Texas)
Ain't shit changed, badge still on my necklace (I know you see it)
You know Thugger, I'ma spit the game how it go (yeah)
I'm on the stairs swangin slow with the music low (yeah)
Them makers on the greens point back to the fo' (what's up)
5th Ward got my back, you already know (you already know)
South West, no Thugger ain't got plexed (what's up West?)
It's H-Town till they put me to rest
I'm from the city of the swang (swang), pop trunk and bang (bang)
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane mayne
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, lane
[Screwed]
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
[Bun B:] City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
[Slim Thug:] City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
[Bun B:] City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
[Mike Jones:] Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane
[Bun B]
I'm from the city of the swangs, mayne the land of the stains
This is Candy Paint County (county), I'm known as the game
Where them trunks on bang (bang), the candy paint drip (drip)
The trunk knock and bang and the grain gettin gripped
You come down here on the trip - don't let the wrong words slip
Cause them heaters on they hip will leave your Levi's ripped
This is H-Town baby (man), the rockets, the Texans
And the strobes so you hoes best not come down here flexin (down here flexin)
Boys think we on some country Alabama shit (bama shit)
Till that hammer spit and you or your man are hit (hold up)
So watch your manners cause we packin them bananas
For you boys actin monkey - we can go and make it funky
From the 5th ward, 4th ward, acres to the tray
Southside to the West, all the way to BA (hey)
The sixteen slidin, fifty-nine flippin (flippin)
Forty-five flossin and nineteen tippin in the
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, lane
[Screwed]
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
[Mike Jones talking over screwed section]
Aaaaaaay
Corey Mo you a fool for this one homie
OG Bun, I see ya baby
[Mike Jones]
I'm the city of the candy paint, city of the swang
Ice Age and team, yeah we run the game
I got my eighty-fours tippin, wood grain I'm grippin
I'm swayin lane to lane with my pinky ring glistenin
And on my H-Town set, all my cars I wet
Me, Paul and Slim Thug made em give us our respect
Can't forget about Chamillionaire, my boy Lil' Flip
It you hatin on H-Town, (Motherfucker eat a dick)
Scarface and Rap-A-Lot, yeah they opened up the doors
Now we lettin the world know how we roll eighty-fours
Scarface and Rap-A-Lot, yeah they opened up the doors
Now we lettin the world know how we roll eighty-fours
If you ever in my city chillin on a Sunday night
Come to club Ice Age and Mike Jones will have you right
If you ever in my city chillin on a Sunday night
Come to club Ice Age and Mike Jones will have you right
I'm from the city of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane
[Screwed]
I'm from the city of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
[Slim Thug]
{Slim Thugger motherfucker!}
I'm from the city of the swang, grain grippers and the sippers
Candy slab flippers choppin boys like clippers
Gotta represent my town so I'm ridin top down (top down)
With the trunk in the air showin off my surround
H-Town niggas roll hard on the board
I be up in your hood and drive all in your yard (what?)
Blue boy boss still reppin that Texas (Texas)
Ain't shit changed, badge still on my necklace (I know you see it)
You know Thugger, I'ma spit the game how it go (yeah)
I'm on the stairs swangin slow with the music low (yeah)
Them makers on the greens point back to the fo' (what's up)
5th Ward got my back, you already know (you already know)
South West, no Thugger ain't got plexed (what's up West?)
It's H-Town till they put me to rest
I'm from the city of the swang (swang), pop trunk and bang (bang)
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane mayne
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, lane
[Screwed]
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang, bang
City of the swang, swang
Pop your trunk and bang
City, city, swang, swang
Pop your, pop your trunk and bang, bang
Don't let me catch you slippin when you in the turnin lane, turnin lane
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