[Hook]Oh no, there go them Texas boys banging in a fo' do' Top fell out the drop, crawling on 84's Think of taking my slab, baby I don't think so My heat under my seat, and I don't love you hoes Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low Five percent or ten, but still my screens gon glow These haters be in my mix, and these boppers be on my **** Everytime I come round the corner[Paul Wall] I'm from the land of opportunity, in God we trust But haters in my mix, got me paranoid and disgust I'm scoping out my side mirrors, when my car's in park It's after dark, and my slab is fresh meat to these sharks Boys thinking I been drinking, so I'm off my note But I got seventeen surprises, tucked inside of my coat See me strut through the parking lot, on 22's plus It's a must I make all haters, eat my dust Them jump-out boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping I ain't tripping, grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping Boys jacking with these tow trucks, thinking they slick But take a trip to South Lee, and end up in a ditch They got my purple people eater once, the next day I bought a Range Rover cash, and a new set of fronts I've been on feet for months, I'm taking haters to lunch Paul Wall and Trae, hit em with that one-two punch[Hook][Trae] When I flip in my slab I'm fin to beat they back off, like I was legs Sitting low and tinted on chrome, gangstafied till I'm finished I'm bout to diminish these haters, when my trunk start waving Blue over gray, side of my drop with six T.V.'s I'm displaying They hate that I'm shining, with the fifth wheel falling flying down the block But if one of these haters, wanna jack me Slugs gon be flying, out the glock I click for no reason, this season my slab is staining they brain And I be known for getting reckless in Texas, gripping on grain Forever be pimping, 84 tipping all through the SouthGrilling boppers all through my tint, with diamonds all in my mouth They all in my mouth, looking stupid when I burn right past em Cause some of these broads be living shife, and setting up for the jacking But not today, cause Trae gon be flipping on top of his game We guerillas I'm mobbing with, ain't no stopping me mayn When I'm in my fo' do' solo, the slab is bound to get tossed And if you trying to be competition, then you bound to be getting lost[Hook][Trae] Make way for the team, when the fo' do' be coming round the corner These haters are goners, cause I'ma drop the top when I wannaI know these jackers, better think before they reach out and touch Cause in back of the car is the Excursion, full of thugs that'll punch I know they wanted to get me, but they don't know what I'm bringing I pop the trunk and swing the block, while jamming Slow Loud And Bangin' Trae and Paul Wall on a mission, and ain't no stopping it mayn With my hand on my heat in my seat, and the other on grain[Paul Wall] Mo' money mo' problems mayn, the legend is true You better stay up on your toes, when you ride 22's I'm rolling strapped, everywhere I go I'm watching my back Cause on my block, them jackers don't give a damn if I rapPeople see me being friendly, and they think that I'm softBut the truth is, my best friend is a sawed off These haters in my mix, got me losing composure But if they take one step closer, it ain't gon be kosher naw[Hook]
[Hook]Oh no, there go them Texas boys banging in a fo' do' Top fell out the drop, crawling on 84's Think of taking my slab, baby I don't think so My heat under my seat, and I don't love you hoes Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low Five percent or ten, but still my screens gon glow These haters be in my mix, and these boppers be on my **** Everytime I come round the corner[Paul Wall] I'm from the land of opportunity, in God we trust But haters in my mix, got me paranoid and disgust I'm scoping out my side mirrors, when my car's in park It's after dark, and my slab is fresh meat to these sharks Boys thinking I been drinking, so I'm off my note But I got seventeen surprises, tucked inside of my coat See me strut through the parking lot, on 22's plus It's a must I make all haters, eat my dust Them jump-out boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping I ain't tripping, grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping Boys jacking with these tow trucks, thinking they slick But take a trip to South Lee, and end up in a ditch They got my purple people eater once, the next day I bought a Range Rover cash, and a new set of fronts I've been on feet for months, I'm taking haters to lunch Paul Wall and Trae, hit em with that one-two punch[Hook][Trae] When I flip in my slab I'm fin to beat they back off, like I was legs Sitting low and tinted on chrome, gangstafied till I'm finished I'm bout to diminish these haters, when my trunk start waving Blue over gray, side of my drop with six T.V.'s I'm displaying They hate that I'm shining, with the fifth wheel falling flying down the block But if one of these haters, wanna jack me Slugs gon be flying, out the glock I click for no reason, this season my slab is staining they brain And I be known for getting reckless in Texas, gripping on grain Forever be pimping, 84 tipping all through the SouthGrilling boppers all through my tint, with diamonds all in my mouth They all in my mouth, looking stupid when I burn right past em Cause some of these broads be living shife, and setting up for the jacking But not today, cause Trae gon be flipping on top of his game We guerillas I'm mobbing with, ain't no stopping me mayn When I'm in my fo' do' solo, the slab is bound to get tossed And if you trying to be competition, then you bound to be getting lost[Hook][Trae] Make way for the team, when the fo' do' be coming round the corner These haters are goners, cause I'ma drop the top when I wannaI know these jackers, better think before they reach out and touch Cause in back of the car is the Excursion, full of thugs that'll punch I know they wanted to get me, but they don't know what I'm bringing I pop the trunk and swing the block, while jamming Slow Loud And Bangin' Trae and Paul Wall on a mission, and ain't no stopping it mayn With my hand on my heat in my seat, and the other on grain[Paul Wall] Mo' money mo' problems mayn, the legend is true You better stay up on your toes, when you ride 22's I'm rolling strapped, everywhere I go I'm watching my back Cause on my block, them jackers don't give a damn if I rapPeople see me being friendly, and they think that I'm softBut the truth is, my best friend is a sawed off These haters in my mix, got me losing composure But if they take one step closer, it ain't gon be kosher naw[Hook]
