| Southside da realist, drug dealers killas
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| Sharks and gorillas, hope that you hear this
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| Who said that we ain’t dope dealing wizards?
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| Car changing colors like chameleon lizards
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| Southside is da realist, I’mma make you feel it
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| Microphone blizzards
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| Out on the grind, gots to get mine
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| From the state fair down to x to the pine
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| Home of the killas, home of the G’s
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| Boys round here calling dubs deuce D’s
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| It’s anotha place, Southside’s an island
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| Off in the jungle the gorillas be wilding
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| Deep in the game, my domain
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| You can get it by the pack or by the train
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| Ain’t no fakers, got bikers and raiders
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| Roll down the exit night it looks like Vegas
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| Small time bangers, that’s what that is
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| If you ain’t scheming you are making drug deals
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| Blood killa green got them hoes on the pill
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| Get it how you live cause you gotta eat a meal
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| I can’t starve, drive fast cars
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| Cut up my bang, I done shook up the stars
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| Bang from the gauge, make 'em behave
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| I got the crown like the king of the cave
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| King of the castle, hustling master |
| Me and Kidd took bigs up to Nebraska
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| Peep what I say, don’t come round my way
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| I got enough niggas to take up valet
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| 6 niggas deep, bringing full heat
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| We was moving 'bout a half a big every week
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| My nigga J had the Jag looking right
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| Passing out the motor so we holding on tight
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| Getting kinda dark so we flipped on the light
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| 12 hours later at a Florida turnpike
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| Exit Daytona gotta lotta marijuana
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| Laws pulled us over but they didn’t find the ganja
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| Complete task count up my cash
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| Back in Dallas Texas blending in with my stash
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| Broke is in the past, call me candy paint and glass
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| I done fucked them up with the wood in the dash
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| Back on the scene jump fresh, jump clean
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| I was moving dimes on the mean Eugene
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| Me and Ceasar chip, 8Ball, and J. R
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| Check my background fiends know who we are
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| I were kept stutter, yet a straight drop
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| Hemmed by the cops had to swallow my rocks
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| Endo is sherman, endo be burning
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| SS Impala, Sprewells steady turning
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| Stay down in end Dontae cut throat
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| Who them whinny boys, I’ll slam both |
| I done took a toast make haters get ghost
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| AR-15, I ain’t got to approach
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| Hit you from a block, haters wanna plot
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| Put it on they top with the infra beam dot
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| Snitches get stitches, not in the britches
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| I’mma fuck around have you swimming with the fishes
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| Swimming in the gulf, times getting rough
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| Only thing good is a doja I puff
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| Niggas talking stuff, ??? |
| ain’t tough
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| I throw bows like a souped up bus
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| It’s going down in the dirty dirty tre
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| Boys don’t play bout the yay or the K
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| Holla after jets just got gallons of the wet
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| Nigga Lil' Larry’s have shooters on the vet
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| Boys in the (?) got the surf and the guns
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| K’d off birdtwan they ride foreign
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| Holla at the Luke and the 44 Boyz
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| Niggas up in Lincoln ride candy red toys
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| Nixon ride blue, that’s what it do
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| Bontae, Dontae, Shaw K, too
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| Boys in the east gotta get a little piece
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| Chunking rally stripes on a box shell 'price
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| Boys on the road ain’t wax lil' scone
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| Coming through this ho, ghost patterns on the door |