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Fell in love with a |
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Cadillac [x2] |
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Trunk turn flip, like a acrobat [Hook x2] |
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Broke up with my foreign car, and fell in love with a |
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Cadillac [x3] |
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Trunk turn flip, like a acrobat [Trae:] |
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I woke up, thinking foreign car |
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But the Cadillac, got a nigga sitting in a daze 24's and a swiss, sitting sideways |
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Trae flipping through the hood, like |
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I'm running through a maze |
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Find me trunk up, with the top back |
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One deep in the front, two freaks in the back |
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Haters mad at me, cause |
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I'm MVP stats |
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Better give me fifty feet, cause |
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I'm good with the gat |
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Good with the track, like |
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I'm good with the hands 15's banging, like |
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I'm battle of the bands |
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New Benz like send, they run up out of grand |
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And the trunk read |
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Trae, so they know that |
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I'm the man |
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Me Paul Wall, in a slab out of |
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Texas In a |
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Cadillac, had to get rid of the |
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Lexus Rather be gangsta, tipping on something |
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With something in the clip, that'll get rid of the plexing [Boss:] |
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I fell in love, with my |
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Coupe DeVille |
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It's on a switch, it's the truth for real |
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Scraping the back down, these |
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Southwest streets |
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Got a few teeth in the grill, loose for real |
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Big pumps, two to the front one to the back |
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One wheel in the air, gliding like that |
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Three O-7, rebuilt without chrome |
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Hundred spoke |
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Daytons, with the two prones |
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Next week, |
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I'm in some'ing from the |
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Lowrider book |
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I'ma show these motherfuckers, how a lowrider look |
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Hit a switch on |
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Boss, will get your lowrider took |
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In '98, I use to be the lowrider crook |
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Fleetwoods, |
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El-Dogs Sedan |
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DeVilles When |
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I ride, always equipped with handy steel |
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Cocked up on three, and got em standing still |
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I'm in the attick, wondering when |
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I'm gon land and chill [Hook x2] [Juicy J:] |
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I'm never staying focused, always smoking |
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Presidential kushing, always choking |
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Nigga I drank up, all your purple |
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If I find out, that shit be potent |
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Mayn I get high, fuck that shit |
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Your baby mama out here, sucking my dick |
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I'ma make her pay me, that child support |
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I'm a pimp out here, trying to make it rich |
|
If you really wanna get high, let me know |
|
I'll tell |
|
C.B., let you hit that blow |
|
We can ride in the |
|
Cadillac, way in the fucking back |
|
Hitting all the spots, just hogging that hoe |
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Then take a lot of freaks, to the |
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Hotel room |
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System on blast, you can hear that boom |
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Mayn I'ma pop bout, two three |
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X And drop my drawas, and take this chewing [DJ Paul:] |
|
See in that |
|
M-Town, we snort that blow |
|
Turn around mayn, and whip our hoes |
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Take me big gulp, full of that drank |
|
Now I'm high, don't know what to think |
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First I had em beating fast, now |
|
I got em knocking slow |
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Sniff a lil' mo' of this sip a lil' mo' of that, even down the middle whoa |
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Closed up my foreign do's, opened up my |
|
American do's '72 |
|
Sedan DeVille, 84's and 20 inch vogues |
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Chandillere, hanging from the top |
|
Fish tank, lit up in the glass box |
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But I had to put, the toy fish in it |
|
Cause the real ones died, from the kick box bitch [Hook x2] [Jay'Ton:] |
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Jay'Ton, pull up in a |
|
Lac cocked up 22 inch chrome, bags popped up |
|
Diamonds in our mouth, cash stocked up |
|
Ice game six, so the game locked up 9-4 |
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Fleetwood, headlights on |
|
Fifth let back, but the trunk moved on |
|
Flying through the hood, with the six 12's on |
|
Seal in the groove, super kush to the dome 19 in the game, only love for my |
|
Lac Never loving a dame, swang to the left |
|
When I'm hulling the frame, trying to take mine |
|
You'll be hugging a stain, like |
|
I'm hugging the lane |
|
Screw tape still on, drank in my cup |
|
Everytime, that |
|
I roam Roach ass hoes, still calling my phone |
|
Representing for the |
|
South, H-Town is my home [Trae:] |
|
I'm a 24 inch black, |
|
Fleetwood glider |
|
Tipping the block, they love the way the drop sit wider |
|
Lord knows haters mad, when the left fly by ya |
|
Call it what you want, but the |
|
Lac stay way liver |
|
Boppers all on my dick, with the trunk up |
|
Beating up the |
|
Boulevard, with the beat pumped up |
|
Hit a switch on the remote, the front jump up |
|
Run up on the slab, roam that'll get you lumped up |
|
Hopping out looking like do's, got threw on backwards |
|
Throwed wardrobe, by my bed son of a bastard |
|
When it come to |
|
Cadillacs, |
|
Trae got that mastered |
|
And the game that |
|
I got, way flyer than |
|
NASA Me and |
|
Three 6, representing for the drank sippers |
|
Iced out grills, and the wood grain grippers 84 swangs, and the late night tippers |
|
Riding for the hood, |
|
Cadillac tight whippers [Paul Wall:] |
|
I got that candy red, with extra gloss |
|
Heads turn, when they see me floss |
|
Scooped up |
|
Trae, on a sunny day |
|
Holla at Jay' |
|
Ton, and my boy |
|
Lil' Boss |
|
Trying to stay popping, and hoes stay bopping |
|
Cause the swangas poking, and the blades stay chopping |
|
Beat the case, but the |
|
FEDs still watching |
|
In the Fed- |
|
Ex truck, right down the street plotting |
|
Dropped the top, if the sun on shine |
|
Sipping on some potent, puffing on pine |
|
Slow Loud |
|
And Bangin', in a candy slab line |
|
Down here in |
|
H-Town, it go down |
|
Old school |
|
Cheves, and throwback |
|
Lacs Swangas and vogues, with a trunk that crack |
|
This how it goes, down here in the 3rd |
|
Coast Houston |
|
Texas, at the bottom of the map baby [Hook x2] |
