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What's up Kutt baby? It's Paul Wall |
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You know how we do it down in Texas riding on the 84's |
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Why don't you let them boys know how you do it down there in Kansas City |
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Know what I'm talking bout? |
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You know I'm coming down looking draped up and dripped out |
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200 for the Gucci jeans iced up and chipped out |
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150 for the tennis shoes I lace up and dip out |
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Expensive fits to taste, let it dissolve in your bitch mouth |
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Fresh out on 'em all, lookin like a tailor made |
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Manikin from Harold Penn's at the Landing Mall |
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My Kansas City fitted's to the side cuz I'm a dog |
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Bandana out my pocket and I'm finna blind em all |
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I'm tellin you it's nothing, just check out my demeanor |
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Extra crispy when I step out, I'm a walking talking cleaners |
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On my way up to the liquor store to purchase me a pleaser |
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Malibu, 151, pineapple juice and case of beers |
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The ride look like throw up, and niggas say it's sick |
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I chuck the deuce when I roll up, and represent the click |
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I'm gettin down how I know brah, real heavy on a bitch |
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Me and my niggas all post up, forever on the strip with them |
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J's on my feet (feet) |
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Car full of beat (beat) |
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Trunk full of (heat) |
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Caribou in the seat |
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I got (x4) |
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Got a gorilla in my trunk, and he ain't very happy |
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You don't hear him tryin to get out? That's why your windows crackin |
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Old ladies on the block threaten us all but we laughing |
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'Til somebody called the police, cuz niggas started capping |
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My posse's on Prospect, different location |
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Motorcading in drops, newbies and Chevy's on the daytons saying |
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I come through this, whatever that you playing man |
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So many artists in look like American Band Stand |
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The sun start to get low, bustas turn to flip mode |
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Lookin out for enemies with hands on they pistols |
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It's time to turn your shit low, and listen for the tip toes |
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Cuz Killa City's known for makin simple threats official |
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It's murk in the air, so we party with caution |
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You can't be sure like Al B. when somebody is watching |
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'Til all of a sudden bells ringin, bodies are dropping |
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You think I'm crazy, this happens in my area often for them |
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Let's find a place to meet up, it used to be a Jimmy's |
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Now when niggas drunk and hungry everybody go to Denny's |
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By the stadium, and it don't even cost a pretty penny |
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When you get there, it's like a party everybody in it |
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Elbow to elbow, niggas connecting tables |
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Bein loud and obnoxious yellin at all the waiters |
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And the bitch I used to fuck with, sitting right over there |
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Now my mind's on some fuck shit, nigga cuz I'm a player |
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Motioning and gesturing for her to meet the guest you with |
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I guess that's when she 'membered I'm more flyer than the rest of them |
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We dipping in the whip now, I told the ho to sit back |
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She pulling on my zipper, pulled the skipper out and licked that |
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Made a nigga zig zag, I'm losing all my bearings |
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Bout to bubble like I'm Aaron, got a suite up at the Clarion |
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Damn shit is fucked up, before I beat the meat I need the Magnums |
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Gotta have 'em so I'm smashing out to grab em with the |
