| Doing it up real big, ha-ha
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| What’s going down my nigga
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| Let me see you holla-holla, if you love the summer time
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| Hit the detail shop, get your drop top shine
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| Ain’t no subways here, it’s thugs down here
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| 20 inch dubs, what we love down here
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| The best part of year, bout the end of May
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| Now the best thing to see, MLK on Sunday
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| Candy spray on gray, playing Playstation 2
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| Looking good when I come through, I smell barbecue
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| E.S.G. |
| true-true, pop roof purple Sprite
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| Sin in the Benz, rims circle at the light
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| Cardier filled with ice, got a cooler full of comas
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| Say playboy, you know the blades are the old ones
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| AME’s, on the SUV’s
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| DVD’s, with the five T.V.'s
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| Maaan, off the showroom flo'
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| I love the thug life, boy you already know
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| I wanna ride with you, Southside
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| That sticky green I’m looking clean, let’s ride
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| I wanna floss with you, Northside
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| From H-Town to L. A
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| See ain’t no feeling like it’s feeling, when you balling and you chilling
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| Stacking chips by the minute, see the hoes straight grinning
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| Hit the 59, puffing a pound
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| Hit the 6−10, now I’m in the wind again
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| Hit up E.S.G. |
| and Slim Thug, prolly smoke rims up
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| So fresh and so clean, I hit couple my friends up
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| Now a G at St. Claire what’s up Sin (heey)
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| The sticky Mary do way, everyday all day
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| I’m so serious about it no doubt it, if you a G straight shout it
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| Put your pistols in the air, and be about it
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| This way and that way, sideways on the highway
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| Motherfucker, I do it my way
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| You see what you see, is just what you get
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| E.S.G. |
| and Slim Thug and Daz, dropping gangsta shit
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| The sunshine got me tan, while I head to the sand
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| Top down music playing, wood grain in my hand
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| It’s summer time, so I feel like I gotta shine
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| Candy do’s glass 4's, with the fifth reclined
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| Popping trunks on swang, is how we clown in that Tex
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| From my wrist to neck, I’m invisible sets
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| Nothing less, Slim Thug the flow pro rapper
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| As I head to the Kappa, 4 swangas and adapters
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| (turning heads while we crawl, up and down the C-Wall)
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| From now on my mind set, to just ball ball ball
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| I hit the mall like whatever, what I want I get
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| I never run out of cheddar, cause my stash too thick
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| From H-Town to L.A., L.A. to V. A
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| Represent where you’re staying, let me see how you play
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| Now make way for the city, that love to po' up
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| Cause H-Town and Boss Hogg, is about to blow up
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| See what you see, is just what you get
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| It’s just that Thug and Daz, dropping gangsta shit
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| (*talking*)
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| Biatch yeah, E.S.G., Slim Thug, Daz Dillinger
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| Running the South, the North, the West, the East yeah
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| Put your hands up, all my bitches put your hands up
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| Real gangstas put your hands up, yeah |