| Yessir, SwishaHouse!
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| DJ Paul and Juicy J productions
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| Paul Wall, SwishaHouse, Hypnotize Minds, Three 6 Maf-i-UHH!
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| It’s goin down
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| Eighty-fo's (eighty-fo's) candy paint (candy paint)
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| Switchin lanes (switchin lanes) sippin drank (sippin drank)
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| It’s Paul Wall baby yeah that’s me, these hoes wanna know what I’m 'bout
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| Princess cuts all on my neck and on my wrist and in my mouth
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| Do’s open, do’s close, where’s the camera I’ll strike a pose
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| I’m still ridin on elbows, in eighty-threes and eighty-fo's
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| The gangsta slab is what I flip, woodgrain is what I grip
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| That purple drank is what I sip, in my cell phone keep a chip
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| I’m talkin bid’ness I put it down, I’m choppin blades and I’m poppin shrooms
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| I’m from the land of that fry smoke, got plex I got the pump
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| Weighted trunk and chunk the deuce, keep it movin I’m on the prowl
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| I’m on the hunt for some one night love, best believe that it’s goin down
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| Money and hoes, cars and clothes, diamond rings and ice grills
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| SwishaHouse we keep it trill, and hold it down baby what’s the deal
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| We put them 47 inch jelly screens in them Escalade
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| We po’that purple drank straight up like it’s that Kool-Aid
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| We like them girls that eat it up and never be afraid
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| While you cry but ask how they givin up the fade
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| Ye ain’t got screens if they ain’t touch screen
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| with the removable screen, lookin mean on the scene
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| When hoes see me they sayin everybody ain’t able
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| Cause I turned the back of my Caddy pickup into a pool table
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| Juicy J, I’m the mayne, got the G’s, fuck the fame
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| See a lil’freak, run some game, and she goin I’ma take some brain
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| I’m on the slab, posted up, white Cadillac with the white guts
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| I’m on the scene, drankin lean, mixed with Spire in a plastic cup
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| I’m from the hood, call it North, where Project Pat went to jail and court
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| But now he back on the Southern bricks, we gon’drink a lot and players smoke
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| Newport
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| Uptown, hit the blush, or watch these diamonds blind you up Nothin but self-made millionaires so you can shut the fuuuuuuuuuck
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| I got a deep freezer up on my neck and sno-cones up in my ear
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| A ice tray up in my mouth, I’m lookin somethin like a chandelier
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| You can call me the ice man, I cause a blizzard every time I breathe
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| Posted up on that South Lee, with Big Mix and my boy Lil’Heat
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| Where’s the drank I’m runnin low, Cabbage Head told me it’s a drought
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| But not to worry dough never doubt, I’ll go to the doctor with a cough
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| It’s Paul Wall baby that’s my name, fly like a plane what it do
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| I drop the top of my potnah plaque and chunk the deuce to that boy Gooch
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| Just like a midget I’m sittin low, and like a snail I’m crawlin slow
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| Where’s Mike, where’s Bawdy, he on the grind ducked on the low
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| Yeah I like my music slow, yeah I like my train mud
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| I’m chopped up by Michael Watts, it’s Paul Wall baby that’s what’s up
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| «I'm a playa, ain’t no doubt, hoes wanna know what I’m 'bout»
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| «I'm a playa, I’m a playa, I’m a playa, I’m a playa…» |