(Pimp C) I gotta come down, I got a bangin
trunk So when I come through you feel the slab just bump Them niggas
sipin syrup and them bitches on that gin Man hit that sweet one time for
Smoke-D locked down in that pen I'm blowin out the window, you know I'm
rollin glass I'm bumpin that Screw, that t-a-t, that boy actin a
ass Cause down in Texas nigga, we got our own stores We got the baddest
bitches and we roll the freshest cars I flip to New Orleans by you clask I'm
on the scene Got dress improvement steam I step out that bitch so clean I
poured out some liquor on the street for that fool Todd He was a trill ass
nigga never came at me prod Man I was talkin to Playa G just the other
night He told me about this nigga that was talkin about me shife Fool
nigga this UGK Bun and C we run the streets And tell your bitch ass brother
he can't fuck with my beats So if you wanna be bangin nigga the good shit
don't come cheap I'm talkin 7000 over 3 knock off a G Cause fool this
ain't no game nigga all about my change I'm comin baby Fleetwood swangin on
them thangs
(Chorus 4x) I gotta come down I gotta stay real I
gotta break them boys off bumper and grill
(Bun B) Now tell me what
it's all about in the south Big gold grill in you mouth Much leather
inside yo car, on yo back, in yo house Sit in a nigga's ride the seats feel
like a couch Big keys in my pouch Bitch if it hurt say ouch Now if I
look like a south don't try to cap You know a nigga like me be ridin dirty
with big dope up in his lap Oh, but when I'm shinin bitch I'm blazin Hoes
shrivlin up like raisins talkin bout it so amazin How big Bun be rollin
through Texas with sexy hoes keepin they wig done Bustas bite the big
one From dis to dip this swisher houses Let's flip from that maker maker
to that after hours on Scott They always drinkin trip mixed with crush 75 or
4 Make a nigga wanna fuss, but I can't Cause I need the rush of codeine
so I can lean I prop a pill Cause I'm trill to the bone Crushin with
that crome
Chorus
(N.O. Joe) What's up bruh this N.O. Joe
representin gumbo Funk in you trunk that got yo ears wide open like you dumb
ho I'm livin larger than most a coast to coast slipper That ice-bowl
sipper that's never known to be a set tripper Too many diamonds for you to
try to look at directly Haters don't check me they respect me A pistol
packin, no shank, shiny grill, full tank Checkin out these bustas thinkin
they real when they ain't Y'all call me mister foreign I'm comin down at
navy porscha Either way I'ma be a highway scorcher, blunt torcher I'm
catchin out doin 120 on the tallway the whole way Turnin the corners that I
once hung out I got the boppers strung out Walkin around with they tounge
out Naw, I stay behind the wheel grinnin Burnin 500 dollar rubber, 5000
dollar rim spinnin
U Artists/Bands 
Ugk CDs in sales 
