(feat. Mike D, Billy Cook, W.G.)
[Hook x2: Billy Cook]
I know, that I gotta be a G

Till the day, that I'm gone
Repping, for the Southside of town
Still swanging, on chrome

[Mike D:]
I'm on 4-30, with the top on miss
Palimene got you stuttering, blades chopping and %#@!

Like the way the TV falling, trunk be popping and %#@!
Boo don't break your neck, make your ^!$$% clock and %#@!
Cause I'm a straight up hog, that always keep a glock in my %#@!

And when these young'ns wanna try me, I'ma block em and %#@!
They way she staring at a ^!$$%, he threw her out of his %#@!
So I had to bust a U, and re-ride to this (*##$

She run up hollin' bout, this ^!$$% dope and dollas and %#@!
See I'm a hog baby girl, I'll knock him out of his %#@!
It take a Southside ^!$$%, to have power like this

And if you ain't pumping for your paper, you ain't talking bout %#@!
[Trae:]
It ain't a damn thang changed, on the Southside of town

I'm a block bleeder for li', moving slow when I grind
But I'm full speed down the block, with the top let down
Leaving them haters a mile away, cause they hating my shine

Slow Loud And Bangin in my trunk, tap-tap when it bump
If you got plex ^!$$% then jump, you finna be quick to get dumped
Cause Trae ain't gon never forget, what the game done got me

That's why I'm faithfully thugging, and these wanna-be's copy
But it'll never be another me, I'm one of the mob
Straight out the Southside of Houston, and I'm physically hard

The way the Dub and the L, for the block that I'm roaming
For my ^!$$% Screw, you know I'm still swanging on my chrome
[W.G.:]

This a Southside classic, game done got drastic
Graduated from the deuce-deuce, to the plastic
Nine millimeter, on your corner taking aim

These white folks in my face, calling me the blame
For the drug sales, and these wanna be a baller
Gotta crawl 'fore you walk, gotta stand much taller

$#&@ them Benzes and Lorenzes, and them shiny thangs
We from Southside Houston Texas, and we grinding mayn
We done waited our time, and lost some major figgas

Got boys in the game, trying to get a lil' bigger
R.I.P. to DJ Screw, and that F-A-T
Without them there's no me, but these boys can't see

[Hook x2]
[Z-Ro:]
Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-fo'

It's Z-Ro the Crooked, taking over your radio
I'm a Southside veteran, hands been registered as a weapon
But everytime I'm solo, I be two deep with Smith-N-Wesson

Ain't taking no chances, that be dealing with the devil
My game is so deep, a mother$#&@er couldn't even dig me with a shovel
Like a true blue running devil, throwing C's all day

Represent that and I meant that, sent that in the form of a K
That'll open up your body, call me Z-Ron-Gotti
If these busters don't know, they better ask somebody

Either you can be a soldier, or get folded up like Levi's
Z-Ro been repping the South, ever since Z-Ro was knee-high
[Hook x2]