(*talking*)
Screwzoo, what's the deal baby
Lil' Trae up in here, putting it down
Trying to hold it down, know I'm saying
Everybody out here, still representing to the fullest
You know I'mma hold it down fa sho
Ain't no mo' being sad, we gon put it in they face
Again and again, just like you say know I'm saying
We gon smile fa sho
[Trae]
Sitting low behind tints, swanging to Southwest
I got a tech to the chest, penetrating the plex
And if a nigga don't know, we Down South thugs
In the Dirty Third, that's going off like slugs
Beating the boulevard, and swanging in throwed cars
And talking on cellulars, three plus two broads
With a bad broad, shotgun up in the frame
You know Guerilla Maab thugs, be down to pull stunts
On the first of the month, popped up like trunks
And when a nigga showing off, we pump up punks
Fin to dump, showing a nigga Lil' Trae don't play
Blue over grey with a K, fin to make your day
Breaking the mic, since my repertoire
Like niggas at Cornbread's, sipping the barre
Like Roy Jones, when he be breaking a jaw
Like two dykes, in a menage tois
Lyrically, I can't be stopped
Niggas can't see me, even if I was 3-D
I told you once, and I'mma say it out again
S-L-A-B, be raw pimping a pen
In the wind for the divid-ends, and a big body Benz
With the bubble lens, moving it down I-10
Taking a spin, a Cartier with the blue lens
On my grind, steady stacking all of my ends
I'm moving slow, turning everybody head
So you know I'm thoed, I'm fin to pop my do's
On glass 4's fin to pop my trunk, with a lot of glow
I got a lot of flow, and a lot of thugs
From the Southeast side to the block, I put
All of my ghetto motherfuckers, steady showing love
Throwing a deuce in the air, when they feeling us
I know you feeling us
Screwzoo, what's the deal baby
Lil' Trae up in here, putting it down
Trying to hold it down, know I'm saying
Everybody out here, still representing to the fullest
You know I'mma hold it down fa sho
Ain't no mo' being sad, we gon put it in they face
Again and again, just like you say know I'm saying
We gon smile fa sho
[Trae]
Sitting low behind tints, swanging to Southwest
I got a tech to the chest, penetrating the plex
And if a nigga don't know, we Down South thugs
In the Dirty Third, that's going off like slugs
Beating the boulevard, and swanging in throwed cars
And talking on cellulars, three plus two broads
With a bad broad, shotgun up in the frame
You know Guerilla Maab thugs, be down to pull stunts
On the first of the month, popped up like trunks
And when a nigga showing off, we pump up punks
Fin to dump, showing a nigga Lil' Trae don't play
Blue over grey with a K, fin to make your day
Breaking the mic, since my repertoire
Like niggas at Cornbread's, sipping the barre
Like Roy Jones, when he be breaking a jaw
Like two dykes, in a menage tois
Lyrically, I can't be stopped
Niggas can't see me, even if I was 3-D
I told you once, and I'mma say it out again
S-L-A-B, be raw pimping a pen
In the wind for the divid-ends, and a big body Benz
With the bubble lens, moving it down I-10
Taking a spin, a Cartier with the blue lens
On my grind, steady stacking all of my ends
I'm moving slow, turning everybody head
So you know I'm thoed, I'm fin to pop my do's
On glass 4's fin to pop my trunk, with a lot of glow
I got a lot of flow, and a lot of thugs
From the Southeast side to the block, I put
All of my ghetto motherfuckers, steady showing love
Throwing a deuce in the air, when they feeling us
I know you feeling us
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