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Chorus: Fat Pat
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala A caller gettin laid tonight Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY! A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Yungstar] I'ma -- baller, I'ma twenty inch crawler Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller I-10 hauler, not a leader not follower Break these boys off I'ma twenty inch crawler Bust a left, a right, I'm outta sight I'm throwed I'm bouncin off the road I'm in a modem with them foe dem Tiny tune -- hop out my big body form Chain with the chong, can't forget Moet along I'm hot, find me lookin good, diamonds against my wood Man it's understood -- got money in my hood I'm pushing big body can't stop me For the nine-eight got to sell a million copy I'ma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto' I'ma go real slow -- puffin indo out the do' I'ma lit the stash green, man I'm lookin clean Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes
Chorus
[Fat Pat] Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low Candy-red, two-do', let my top down slow Hittin, my remote, sittin, in my shit Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit It don't quit, as I get high from K.C. to H-Town, connectin SouthSide Now we worldwide, watch me highside Fat Pat blowin killa, can't be denied 187 thugs, oh yeah we got love Blowin sticky green we flow through and above
Chorus
[Lil' Will] Sittin' Fat Down South, rollin Benz on blocks Mo' scrilla I got, signin with Shortstop And that's for real, so tell me how you feel to make a million dollars out my first record deal Shortstop -- puttin up your motherfuckin ear Really really don't give a fuck and I ain't drinkin on no beer Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride Trunk hit fo' life baby it's SouthSide We on a fuckin mission Expedition Navigator That's how we be ridin, alligator suitcasin Puttin it in your face, and that's for real Shinin harder than the grill it's the player Lil' Will Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug So nigga nigga what? I'm down with Mo'Thugs Mo'Thugs an' da Bone, you know it's goin down Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
Chorus
[Yungstar] I gots to get better man, it gots to move on Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches Had to get older -- man it got colder I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan Boys don't understand virtual reality Caravan Double doors marble floors naked hoes around me Everytime I'm comin out, niggaz they wanna sign me Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers ?? Blaze in the Benz and you can't forget Den-Den Boobie diamond Ruby's, I'm watchin on a movie Drop the top it's cotton, and you know I'm in a jacuzzi Bourban and I'm swervin, man it's gettin hot My last name Lemmon, drive my tight'um off the lot, David Taylor
Chorus
[Hawk] I hit the highway Everything's my way, I par-le Everyday all day, ain't no way Boys can't stop as i slide through your neighborhood Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top I only play to win -- bout to close up shop Showstoppin dead end, pimp the pen once again Peep the message I send Take these levels that you devils can't comprehend Big bout it Benz -- as I floss through the south Big blue lens -- now whatcha talkin about? Close yo' mouth -- as I settle all scores Scream and shout -- my similes and metaphors Mansion doors -- I contstantly close All you hoes -- go and take off your clothes Lord knows -- ain't no time to play Commence to fuckin and-a suckin on the H.A.W.K.
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