Down South Hustlaz Young Dolph (Ft. Paul Wall & Slim Thug)

[Intro: Young Dolph]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy
Ayy, we in Houston with this shit right now, man (Uh-huh)
Ayy, Paul
Paul Wall, what it (It's Dolph)— I need some rubber bands, bruh
Ayy, break that money bag out, Paul, what's up, bruh?

[Verse 1: Young Dolph]
All my bitches say I'm dirty than a motherfucker (Uh-huh)
Pineapple Fanta and it's dirty than a motherfucker (Mud)
Shout out to Bun, I'm ridin' dirty than a motherfucker (Ayy, ayy)
A half a mil' in all twenties, it got blood on it
Presidential day-date and it's flooded, homie (Ayy)
I just left the car lot and spent another check (Skrrt)
Hundred-band profit and I didn't break a sweat (Woah)
I dozed off on that drank and almost had another wreck (Goddamn)
My lil' bitch stay mad at me 'cause I don't get no rest (Ayy, ayy)
I'm always out here chasin' money, so she get no sex (What?)
I'm in that drop-top bangin' Screw and burnin' rubber, nigga (Uh-huh)
I'm down in Houston on that boss shit like Thugga, nigga (Yeah)
Got everything on my own, so I'm like fuck a nigga
Worldwide, 'cross the county, stackin' Ruffles, nigga (Paper Route Empire)

[Chorus: Young Dolph]
She a good girl, but lil' mama bad, though (Uh-huh)
She got a small waist with a fat ass, though (Woo)
Thirty pints of Hi-Tech, they came in the glass, though (Ayy, ayy)
Still boomin' bales of strong out the back door, yup