Lyrics:
the back of the car (Man), and mashed out (For real)
Now ask a nigga that was doin' it in nine-three
On the Interstate in a rental car you can find me
This nigga to give it all to me with the cut
Get the door
Yo whats up? What you need?
Hmm? Yeah
I'm out
Hop in the '6-3 Chevy, countin
loud, funny
And mad cool he kept it so real
With me from the jump, like
"Stay away from all these bitch-ass
Niggas none of them are your
Friends" Him
and counting down the days
Now Ima count it for every dollar that's gone come my way
Never ran from no problems not even ran away
But if you got a problem you
without me?
Think quick in a new surrounding
Let 'em think, what's Houston 'bout me
Let 'em pick, let 'em choose about me
Let 'em think that it's all been
John 3:16
For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son
That who so ever believes in him shall not perish but have ever lasting
get wavy like the damn coastline
Houston we have a problem
Came to save the city in the Batmobile - Gotham
The only way is up when you started from
and mashed out
Now ask a nigga that was doin' it in nine three
On the Interstate in a rental car you can find me
Suitcase is stuffed like a holiday Turkey
you bust out the door while it's still closed
Still sick from the food you ate
And then you run to the store for quick relief
From a bottle
always keep it classy
Keep it classy with me, I'ma show you how to be
Show you to be neat, both came from the gutters, time to take the leaves
More like
the evil lives
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
Niggas kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck do you expect me to be
the evil lives
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
Niggas kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck do you expect me to be
sixteens!
Sixteen number three!
Some motherfuckers think they can go with me
But most of them niggas just some hoes to me
I got a lotta niggas that's down
Bout it learn how to bounce and get out it hear me out kids cant live with out and it
Ain't nothing you can do bout it learn how to bounce and get out
of Houston, running me down
It's whatever I've been better, at proving a nigga wrong
Tell Goliath I don't need rocks, to prove a lil' nigga strong
So tell
Bars from Leonardo's hand
Which makes it harder to brush me off once
I start to draw you this canvas
A blank rap sheet
Full of post-dramatic flashes
From
Flippin' mad pies, low price, I blow dice and throw them
.45 by my scrotum, manifest the Do or Die slogan
My niggas roll in ten M3's
Twenty Gods poppin'
his arms around me from behind
Then he pile-drived me right there in the hard concrete.
Broke both my arms and three of my ribs
It's the closest
An abandoned house, look ahead you see
Some open the door, yes it's me
With the meanest penis you ever seen
You on your period, with no tampon
You kneel down
Damn, already three in the morning, huh?
It's going down, leaning, drink your drink
Candy sweets, you know what I'm sayin'
Third coast, nigga, UGK
and a way prepared
To suit your every need if you believe
If you believe so will it be it's true for you it's true for me
Somewhere down that narrow road
This nigga to give it all to me with the cut
Get the door
Yo whats up? What you need?
Hmm? Yeah
I'm out
Hop in the '6-3 Chevy, countin
on the journey
Your attitude is what open doors
Uh
Take time with it
Ay
Be player with it
Woah
Learn some from OG's
Your past makes your present
And your present
Taking off the bars from the cell is how I make my living
Lord not be smitten by the cage and the angry men willing
Sta cat to lines with
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