there go them Texas boys banging in a fo' do'
and I don't love you hoes
Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low
Five percent or ten, but still my
These haters be in my mix,
and these boppers be on my dick
Every time I come round the corner
I'm from the land of opportunity,
got me paranoid and disgust
I'm scoping out my side mirrors,
and my slab is fresh meat to these sharks
Boys thinking I been drinking,
But I got seventeen surprises,
See me strut through the parking lot,
It's a must I make all haters,
waiting trying to catch me slipping
grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping
Boys jacking with these tow trucks,
But take a trip to South Lee,
They got my purple people eater once,
I bought a Range Rover cash,
I've been on feet for months,
I'm taking haters to lunch
em with that one- two punch
boys banging in a fo' do'
and I don't love you hoes
Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low
Five percent or ten, but still my
These haters be in my mix,
and these boppers be on my dick
Every time I come round the corner
I'm fin to beat they back
Sitting low and tinted on chrome,
gangstafied till I'm finished
I'm bout to diminish these haters,
when my trunk start waving
Blue over gray, side of my drop with
six T.V.'s I'm displaying
They hate that I'm shining,
with the fifth wheel falling flying down the block
But if one of these haters, wanna jack me
Slugs goin' be flying, out the glock
this season my slab is staining they brain
And I be known for getting reckless in Texas,
84 tipping all through the South
Grilling boppers all through my tint,
with diamonds all in my mouth
looking stupid when I burn right past em
'Cause some of these broads be living
shife, and setting up for the jacking
But not today, 'cause Trae goin' be
flipping on top of his game
We guerillas I'm mobbing with, ain't no
When I'm in my fo' do' solo,
the slab is bound to get tossed
And if you trying to be competition,
then you bound to be getting lost
Oh no, there go them Texas
boys banging in a fo' do'
and I don't love you hoes
Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low
Five percent or ten, but still my
These haters be in my mix,
and these boppers be on my dick
Every time I come round the corner
fo' do' be coming round the corner
'cause I'ma drop the top when I wanna
better think before they reach out and touch
'Cause in back of the car is the Excursion,
full of thugs that'll punch
I know they wanted to get me,
but they don't know what I'm bringing
I pop the trunk and swing the block, while
jamming Slow Loud And Bangin'
Trae and Paul Wall on a mission,
and ain't no stopping it man
With my hand on my heat in my seat,
Mo' money mo' problems man,
You better stay up on your toes,
I'm rolling strapped, everywhere I go
them jackers don't give a damn if I rap
People see me being friendly,
and they think that I'm soft
But the truth is, my best
But if they take one step closer,
it ain't gon be kosher naw
Oh no, there go them Texas
boys banging in a fo' do'
and I don't love you hoes
Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low
Five percent or ten, but still my
These haters be in my mix,
and these boppers be on my dick
Every time I come round the corner
