Big Pokey (screwed Up Click) Who Dat Talkin Down Lyrics

Who Dat Talkin Down Lyrics

(Big Steve-R.I.P)



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Me and my partners recline, we put it down



Roll, ball, but not out of control, sit swolle



A hustler out that Boss Ness Click



Crestmont to King, Grandpappy be the lick



See these haters kinda fear and they knowin



Big ol diamond rings keep the whole damn stage glowin



And I keep pourin, eighth of drank in the soda



I'm the mothership floater and precise rhyme quoter



And it's over, cause me and that Poke, we done told ya



Mobbin just like a soldier in a big ol Range Rover



Hum-V even wanted me, Big Steve



Track records gon show I'm a run the industry



With a trick up my sleeve, blow the best of weed



And a million dollar stack is what the fuck a nigga need







Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround







(Big Steve)



Eleven in the mornin, I jumped up in my foreign



Popped up, cocked up, and my trunk was yawnin



Showin high in my ride, wide body finesser



Grippin grain down Gessner bout to bust a compressor



Tvs, VCs, that's the way it go down



Screens falllin, big ballin sittin low to the ground



See we floss like true, keep the weed and juice



Paul Chevy sittin heavy in a two-door coupe



Mash four, top to roll, Bun B, with a long haired freak



Marquises in the piece, turn the heat up



Cause niggas be jacked, they some cheaters



Take the form of block bleeders 



Drippin paint off the feeder streets



Sweepers in Tex, big Benz and the Lex



Five pointers in my ear, fifteen on my neck



Big face on the check, Navigators and Rovers



Twenty inches to the floor, with my V-12 motor







Now, who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround 



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround







(Big E)



Who dat be, talkin down from my blind side



Crystal grain when I slide in my big ol G ride



Naked hide gots to be shown by Big E



Haters worried bout a G, but they still can't see me



And Paul and P, bout to swoop in the coupe



We for real about the loot, watch the glock nine shoot



In the hoop, tinted up mafia style



Loose lips sank ships, so won't you close em a while



Ghetto child from the Southside be wreckin



Put my time in the kitchen, now them boys respectin



Still jettin off in that silver bullet



Capers I'm a pull and keep you niggas gal lookim



It's on I be cookin pie, rest is shook and



Had to plot and plan, now the money's been tookin



Givin the industry a raw naked ass whoopin



Can't see us baby, cause all the shows we be bookin







(repeat chorus in background)



That's for all you ho-ass niggas out there talkin down on real muthafuckin 



playas...We rollin muthafuckin Range Rovers, Coupes...Silver Bullets, 



bitch...On Twenties...Wide bodies...You hoes better stop trippin...Roll wit 



us, or get your muthafuckin ass rolled over...Chevis Entertainment for 



life...You know who we talkin to, Bitch







Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down



Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround