| Screwzoo, what’s the deal baby
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| Lil' Trae up in here, putting it down
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| Trying to hold it down, know I’m saying
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| Everybody out here, still representing to the fullest
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| You know I’ma hold it down fa sho
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| Ain’t no mo' being sad, we gon put it in they face
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| Again and again, just like you say know I’m saying
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| We gon smile fa sho
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| Sitting low behind tints, swanging to Southwest
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| I got a tech to the chest, penetrating the plex
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| And if a nigga don’t know, we Down South thugs
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| In the Dirty Third, that’s going off like slugs
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| Beating the boulevard, and swanging in throwed cars
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| And talking on cellulars, three plus two broads
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| With a bad broad, shotgun up in the frame
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| You know Guerilla Maab thugs, be down to pull stunts
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| On the first of the month, popped up like trunks
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| And when a nigga showing off, we pump up punks
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| Fin to dump, showing a nigga Lil' Trae don’t play
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| Blue over grey with a K, fin to make your day
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| Breaking the mic, since my reputwa
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| Like niggas at Cornbread’s, sipping the bar
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| Like Roy Jones, when he be breaking a jaw
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| Like two dykes, in a menage tois
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| Lyrically, I can’t be stopped
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| Niggas can’t see me, even if I was 3-D
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| I told you once, and I’ma say it out again
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| S-L-A-B, be raw pimping a pen
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| In the wind for the divid-ends, and a big body Benz
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| With the bubble lens, moving it down I-10
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| Taking a spin, a Cardier with the blue lens
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| On my grind, steady stacking all of my ends
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| I’m moving slow, turning everybody head
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| So you know I’m thoed, I’m fin to pop my do’s
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| On glass 4's fin to pop my trunk, with a lot of glow
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| I got a lot of flow, and a lot of thugs
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| From the Southeast side to the block, I put
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| All of my ghetto motherfuckers, steady showing love
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| Throwing a deuce in the air, when they feeling us
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| I know you feeling us
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| On the Southside
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| Candy sprayed, looking so live
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| 84's and vogues, we glide
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| Screwzoo, you know we holding it down
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| Niggas ain’t ready, for what we do
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| When I’m in my drop, or in the hoodo
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| Pull up on the block, with grey on the blue
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| With four 18's, and banging Screw
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| I don’t give a damn, if y’all hate me
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| When it come to rap, y’all can’t fade me
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| A lot of y’all niggas, know who we be
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| I’ma tell you once, you better let me be
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| In the zone, cause I’m thoed off
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| Niggas wanna think, that I fell off
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| But I gotta stay four steps, ahead of y’all
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| So when I feel plex, I’ma haul em off
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| 3−65, I gotta watch my back
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| Every song that I’m on, I bring hats
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| Gotta hell of a stop, making niggas squash the chat
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| I done proved my points, so you better back back
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| From Guerilla Maab 3D-2
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| Paid my dues, I’m in a store near you
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| Staying true, when I’m thinking about Screw
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| Everyday, I’ma always loving you
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| Mayn, I know it just don’t stop
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| 84's and tipping slow, on chops
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| Lose the cops, I got a trunk on knock
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| Please believe, Trae headed to the top
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| Living down in H-Town, I gotta do my thang
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| I’m on the grind full time, holding down my name
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| S.U.C. |
| affiliated, niggas hate it
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| And I’m still on point, when I’m gripping the grain
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| I put it all in your face, when I stay on the paper chase
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| And niggas wanna plex, cause I’m ahead of the race
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| Better hold that down, cause I’m a real nigga
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| Educated in the streets, so I’m clicked up with killas
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| Dougo, Rocko, Jay’Ton and By-Bo
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| In the air like hydro, they know
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| We so toed, kicking down the do'
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| And like the Z-Ro say, I’m thinking you better let it go
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| Pulling up in the wide body fo' do', with the missing top
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| So the hoes’ll bop, roll stop and drop, you know I cock the Glock
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| And for the P-A-T, you know we still body rock
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| In the Coupe or foreign car, slabbed out
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| Screens on glow, coming out the stash spot
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| Soldiers that’s united for the cash, a lot
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| And for the love of Screw you, I’m riding on knot
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| That’s everyday, and I’m loving it mayn
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| Ain’t shit changed, I gotta go get it
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| Come back with it, and I won’t quit
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| Sideways on a switch, representing for the click bitch |