| Hope y’all can hear me out there
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| Mic check to the world, huh
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| Broadcasting, 2000 and 1, still at Screw’s house
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| Huh, he back on the table, but you just don’t see him
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| You got to feel him, know what I’m talking bout
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| E.S.G. |
| huh, the god, the legend what
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| Putting it down, my partna Slim Thug, huh
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| Lil Baller up in here, Lucky we bout to do this man
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| My partna the legend, uh, feel this feel this
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| Here’s a little story, from the Freestyle King
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| Just some Down South G’s, forfilling they dreams
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| Gripping on pine, swanging through your town
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| It’s that boy E.S.G., and you know he gon clown
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| Hold up hold up, open up who’s this
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| The one who made you say Maan, new year new shit
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| My twinkies twist Screwed Up Click, you can ask Pres. |
| Bush
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| I’m the state representative, man take a look
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| Open your eyes up better wise up, now how you love that
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| I’m in Memphis fucking chickenheads, me and Project Pat
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| Paper stacks what we got, platinum ice up in my mouth
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| Hardest legend up out the South, E.S.G. |
| gon spell it out
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| Now the S is for the Southside, which I claim
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| Now the C is for the way my partna, changed the game
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| Sipping bar now the R, for his first name
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| Which is Robert, Robert you know I felt your pain
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| Now the next letter E, I’mma hold it down for you
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| What’s the last one fool, ahh shit W
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| That’s for Screw too and Screw too, now I’m about to wreck
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| Left the world slowed down, and ain’t caught up yet
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| See the Slim Thug, boppers bopping
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| Hatas hate so they mug, pouring it up
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| And sipping drank out a jug, boss hogg
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| Keeping it crunk in the club, with that boy Mr. Luck'
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| My freestyle is flawless, my lifestyle is flawless
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| Them Boss Hogg Outlaw boys, be the rawest
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| Much love to the legend, by the name of DJ Screw
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| I’m strutting on buttons, coming through candy blue
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| Paid dues broke the rules, putting it down with Big Tyme
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| Candy do’s glass 4's, is how that H-Town shine
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| I’m on a million dolla grind, you can tell when you see me
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| All that balling that’s on T.V., that’s me in 3-D
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| 20 inches off the ground, dropping 20 inch screens
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| When Slim Thug on the scene, you see seedy green that lean
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| I’m a show flow wrecker, I put my money on my mouth
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| It’s the boss of the North, putting it down with the South
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| Looking good in a Fleetwood, I’m pulling bops in my drop
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| We keep straight through stop signs, and pop trunk on cops
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| Slim Thug, E.S.G., taking our respect
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| Northside Houston Tex, 'nuff said who’s next ha
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| Lil Baller, shot caller
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| Got Excursions, Durangos and Impalas
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| And all us, fin to do our thang
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| Ice on piece and chain, wrist and the pinky ring
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| DJ Screw, this Lil Baller and I never met you mayn
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| But from them boys and to you mixing, can’t forget you mayn
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| I came a long way, from playing Atari
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| Now I’m Jaguar and Rover, and a Gucci Ferrari
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| I’m back and I’m on the scene, and I got my mean mug
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| And I’m fin to do a track with E.S.G., and that boy Slim Thug
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| Now from the Northside, to the Southside
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| Everybody mouth drop, it’s open wide
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| And now I’m talking bout, when y’all see me on your block
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| I see y’all dropping top, and I see the blades chop
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| And when y’all see me open the trunk, knock knock
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| And y’all gon see the way I do it, from the top top
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| And I’m fin to wreck it mayn, put it down with Big Tyme
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| Fin to do a big rhyme, then I get my big shine
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| And y’all boys, really ain’t ready
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| Cause down here, we ch-chop like mechettis
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| Grip wood grain, swang lane to lane
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| Pop my trunk, and let the 18's bang
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| Steady jamming Screw, till the end of time
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| Even though you gone, you still on my time
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| Yeaah-yeeah uh huh, uh huh
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| (*scratching*) |