Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Houston's Finest , by - Lil Keke. Song from the album Birds Fly South, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 10.03.2003
Record label: Avarice
Song language: English
Houston's Finest |
| Here we go, baby that’s fa sho |
| Uh here we go, yeah |
| Rest In Peace DJ Screw, my nigga F-A-T P-A-T |
| Mafio, you know what I’m saying |
| Some of H-Town's finest |
| We gon show up and po' up, all the way till we blow up |
| Rest In Peace, to the real DJ |
| Chopped & Slowed, you know the click don’t play |
| Rolling down the strip, with the high beams on |
| Let 'em see the Roley, while I’m talking on the phone |
| Things getting better, talking bout the cheddar |
| Riding up on the slab, chromed out fo' letter |
| B-E-N, to the Z |
| The 500 coupe, drove by Lil' Ke |
| Each and every day, I’m trying to get the feddy |
| Thoed in the game, I got’s to stay ready |
| H-Town finest, ice to the flo' |
| Southwest connect, baby that’s fa sho |
| Better get your’s, cause I’ma sho get mine |
| Commission rich nigga, I ain’t hard to find |
| All about the cash, so I mash on the pedal |
| The S.U.C., on a whole 'nother level |
| I say one for the money, two for living layed |
| I’m a real G, that got’s to get paid |
| Hustle grind, that’s all we do |
| Southside for life, jamming nothing but the Screw |
| One for the money, two for living layed |
| All my real G’s, that love to stay paid |
| Hustle grind, do what you do |
| On the Westside, yeah them boys jam Screw |
| Rest In Peace, to my nigga P-A |
| Think about my nigga, every god damn day |
| Back to the pad, gotta make 'em feel that |
| Never leave home, without the chrome plated gat |
| Clocking much do', cashing much green |
| Since day one, we been the freestyle kings |
| Since the start, it been a Screwed Up invention |
| Don’t worry bout shit, I go hard representing |
| My niggas is gone, but guess who holding it down |
| Southside for life, welcome to H-Town |
| The Don is back, yeah the one and only |
| Puffing on doja, for all my dead homies |
| To the ghetto stars, trying to get that thang |
| Stacking chips high, this a hell of a game |
| Never giving up, on the shit I love |
| Smoking doja sipping syrup, that’s the life of a thug |
| Rest In Peace, to a playa for real |
| Independent black owned, with a major deal |
| Avarice and Commission, nothing but addition |
| Leaving out the game, with a bigger position |
| Hustle grind, that’s all we know |
| Show after show, plus we push snow |
| Stuck in the game, so I got’s to win |
| Getting paid all night, then I do it again come on |