[Chris Ward]
You better learn, what you can learn
Get your hustle on, ^!$$% earn what you can earn

I don't give a $#&@, ^!$$% that's my concern
I got gun powder that'll burn through your sherms, burn through your perms
Burn through your braids, burn through your fades

Burn through your hair crease, burn through your waves
Burn through your fly Unisex, Gucci shades
Burn through your swisher sweets, filled with purple haze

Burn through your chest, and your flesh for days
Turn and chop you ^!$$%z up, like 20 inch Blades
(sh-sh-sh-sh), just like Blades ^!$$% uh

You see I'm back, like I'm homesick
Like the mother$#&@ing booth, was my home trick
And it's like I, never been up out of the house

That's why when I spit, it's nothing but real %#@! coming up out of my mouth
I can't help it nope, not at all
I'm just a real ^!$$%, you are not at all

I'm in a Porshe Kayan, the color of Kayan
But the seats the same color, as the beach as dry sand
C-Wigga, the G-R-A-V-E digger

You know me ^!$$%, you know me ^!$$%
My click's thick, we are too deep
We are too street, in Benzes with two seats

Strapped with two heats
We old school veterans, you ^!$$%z ain't nothing but blue feet
Like Jolly Ranchers, whatever the flavor is

M-m-m, you (*##$ $$# ^!$$%z is too sweet

[Slim Thug]

You can break up the %#@!, hit the block and get grands
This here pure co-can, straight from the dope man
You want a hit get close, so I can give you a dose

I got the best work, on the Dirty South coast
I'm Slim Thug, the same dude at the club
On spinners 4-4 inches, wider than Dubs

Everybody show me love, when I step in
And respect the set, a ^!$$% repping
I pack a strap, but I don't even need a weapon

If I don't like ya, I just beat ya with the left hand
I keep a dime chick with me, all the time
The baddest chick that you see, yep she's mine

I garuntee I done hit it, if she cute and fine
And that's in or out, the Texas state line
When the Boss hit the do', be easy

You now hearing Slim Thug, and C-Weezy (*##$