Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Holla at Botany, artist - C-NoteDate of issue: 18.11.2021
Song language: English
Holla at Botany |
| I hollered at Botany, Courtney came with the love |
| We coming down mayn, blowing cuzin and bud — 3x |
| We hollered at Botany, Courtney came with the love |
| We hollered at Botany, Courtney came with the love |
| Got’s to holler at Botany, cause they showed me love |
| Plus they showed me how to get it, and they down to buzz |
| Wasn’t another crew around, that was touching us |
| Wasn’t another crew down, that can fuck with us |
| Up early in the morning, and we hit the spot |
| Can’t wait till school out, then we hit the block |
| Call us big shot niggas, but we run from cops |
| And boys won’t stop, till we hit the top |
| No mo' slanging rocks, now they on my wrist |
| We was at Screw house, jotting down the list |
| That’s when I grabbed the mic, it went some’ing like this |
| I told him I was the coldest, with the mic in my fist |
| Then I kicked a freestyle, and then mean while |
| We was thinking bout, all the money we gon pile |
| Fresh out the dope game, up in the rap game |
| We got the whole world, feeling Screwed Up mayn |
| Now I told ya we gon do it, now we did it and we done it |
| But you can’t see me, with the diamond out woman |
| On the Boulevard fronting, in some’ing brand new |
| Got the rims big as Shaq, 26 on the shoe |
| Boys roll candy red, boys roll candy blue |
| I’ll roll candy black, cause you know I keep it true |
| Tattoo, say I represent them Clover boys |
| Talk down, then you know we fucking over boys |
| I’ma pop my roof, I’ma pop my trunk |
| I’ma keep on smoking, on these baseball blunts |
| Got that drank by the jug, got the dro by the pound |
| Hear my Nextel chirp, cause we be town to town |
| Got the K a hundred rounds, and we down to spit |
| You can meet us in the street, keep talking that shit |
| And I’m tired of boys hating, on the Screwed Up Click |
| Thinking they did shit first, when we started this shit |
| Everyday a holiday, night times is bright |
| Spent my last fifteen years, getting money with my mic |
| Yeah it’s UGK for life, I’m still riding with Bun |
| Dirty money in my pocket, riding dirty with guns |
| All hundreds no ones, up under my paper stack |
| Got a Bentley and a Rolls, but I still love Lacs |
| Purple in my sack, keep a magnum for they back |
| Coming down on Willie D, Bush Bill and D-Act |
| We all young ghetto boys, I rep the South |
| Port Arthur Texas, the real trill ville no doubt |
| Riding in a glass house, glad to see another day |
| R.I.P. |
| one time, for that H-A-W-K |
| If your people locked up, you need to send em money |
| Cause it’s never too late, to stop acting funny |
| My car candy red, I’m dripping period blood |
| Gotta holla at Botany, them niggas out here coming up |
| (*talking*) |
| Coming down, Third Coast mayn we in here |
| Screwed Up Click representer, off top |
| Pop that trunk, banging mayn swanging mayn |