(feat. N.O. Joe)

[Pimp C]

I gotta come down, I got a bangin trunk
So when I come through you feel the slab just bump
Them ^!$$%s sipin syrup and them (*##$es on that gin

Man hit that sweet one time for Smoke-D locked down in that pen
I'm blowin out the window, you know I'm rollin glass
I'm bumpin that Screw, that t-a-t, that boy actin a $$#

Cause down in Texas ^!$$%, we got our own stores
We got the baddest (*##$es and we roll the freshest cars
I flip to New Orleans by you clask I'm on the scene

Got dress improvement steam I step out that (*##$ so clean
I poured out some liquor on the street for that fool Todd
He was a trill $$# ^!$$% never came at me prod

Man I was talkin to Playa G just the other night
He told me about this ^!$$% that was talkin about me shife
Fool ^!$$% this UGK Bun and C we run the streets

And tell your (*##$ $$# brother he can't $#&@ with my beats
So if you wanna be bangin ^!$$% the good %#@! don't come cheap
I'm talkin 7000 over 3 knock off a G

Cause fool this ain't no game ^!$$% all about my change
I'm comin baby Fleetwood swangin on them thangs


[Chorus x4]
I gotta come down
I gotta stay real

I gotta break them boys off bumper and grill

[Bun B]

Now tell me what it's all about in the south
Big gold grill in you mouth
Much leather inside yo car, on yo back, in yo house

Sit in a ^!$$%'s ride the seats feel like a couch
Big keys in my pouch
(*##$ if it hurt say ouch

Now if I look like a south don't try to cap
You know a ^!$$% like me be ridin dirty with big dope up in his lap
Oh, but when I'm shinin (*##$ I'm blazin

Hoes shrivlin up like raisins talkin bout it so amazin
How big Bun be rollin through Texas with sexy hoes keepin they wig done
Bustas bite the big one

From dis to dip this swisher houses
Let's flip from that maker maker to that after hours on Scott
They always drinkin trip mixed with crush 75 or 4

Make a ^!$$% wanna fuss, but I can't
Cause I need the rush of codeine so I can lean
I prop a pill

Cause I'm trill to the bone
Crushin with that crome


[Chorus]

[N.O. Joe]

What's up bruh this N.O. Joe representin gumbo
Funk in you trunk that got yo ears wide open like you dumb ho
I'm livin larger than most a coast to coast slipper

That ice-bowl sipper that's never known to be a set tripper
Too many diamonds for you to try to look at directly
Haters don't check me they respect me

A pistol packin, no shank, shiny grill, full tank
Checkin out these bustas thinkin they real when they ain't
Y'all call me mister foreign

I'm comin down at navy porscha
Either way I'ma be a highway scorcher, blunt torcher
I'm catchin out doin 120 on the tallway the whole way

Turnin the corners that I once hung out
I got the boppers strung out
Walkin around with they tounge out

Naw, I stay behind the wheel grinnin
Burnin 500 dollar rubber, 5000 dollar rim spinnin


[Chorus x7]