| Huh hold up, 2000 and 2
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| You already know how we do
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| You know I’m saying, pull up in front of the club
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| Banging looking good, hopping out and swanging on blue
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| Boss Hogg Outlaws, doing what they wanna do
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| Security talking bout, turn the music down
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| Man we walk up to the club, do what we wanna (huh)
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| Smelling like dro you already know
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| Slim Thug tell 'em how we do it
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| We riding big body Benz, Gucci shade lens
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| Me and all my friends, got the platinum diamond grins
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| Every thing I’m in spin, on twenty inch Lorenz
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| Laid back on buck skin, with my braids in the wind
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| Not a twin, but me and Ray Face got twin Coupes
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| Me and my super thoed group, drop platinum hits like Snoop
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| I can’t hoop, but people still call me a balla
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| And I can’t shoot, but people still call me a shot caller
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| Standing taller than the rest, staying dressed to impress
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| Twenty karats on my chest, Gator boot, suits and vests
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| Don’t mess with the best, cause we put boys to rest
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| Respect that Houston Tex, cause we break and stack checks
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| Dirty Third sip bar, endo in cigar |
| Menage tois in the spa, like a porno star
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| Me and E up to par, wherever we are
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| Flipping bar foreign cars, double R Jaguars
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| You don’t wanna bang with us
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| Cause you know we dangerous
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| If you real, you can swing with us
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| Cause we are from that Dirty South
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| When we hit the club, you know we thugged out
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| Twenty-fo' seven, them boys they iced out
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| First thing they say, who let them Hoggs out
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| They must be from the Dirty South
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| Carmen San, and you got’s to like me
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| Cause I’m pulling up fly, looking nice and icey
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| If a playa wanna hit, tell me what the price be
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| Six digits no less, baby don’t strive me
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| Hopping me and my crew, roll up big body Benz
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| Chromed out twenties, big bubbled eyed blue lens
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| All my playas set trends, and spend big dividends
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| Southside showing up, blowing up bubbling
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| Club parking is packed, me and my click walking in
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| Diamonds shining, blinding and sparkling
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| Best believe we squash that chatter, they stopping and talking in
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| When the club let out, this Big Billy I’m hopping in
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| Big stack of paying dues, sitting fat on 22's |
| 9−5 Air Macks, my platinum FUBU
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| Squatting in my drop, my Cardier watch
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| The mo' Lac I got, the harder they bop
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| Stash spot for Glock, two tone Navigator hot
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| Boss Hogg calling shots, trying to block spray the block
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| Make 'em stop, three karat rock the ice thick
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| Baller blockers caught a flicks, I’ma pull up my convicts
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| This is it, everything I spit a hit
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| Got swanging and banging, popping trunks reclining kits
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| In the mix, in a 6 with a body full of gliss
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| Two punching keys chicks, Sade and G the shit
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| Twenties turn and twist, with each lane I switch
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| Mary Jane in my piss, wood grain in my fist
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| Clarion screens lit, banging at a high fix
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| Banging R. Kelly screwed, I Wish, I Wish |