| C.M.G., Rally Boys
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| We black by popular demand, ha-ha
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| That’s right, the young Don
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| Kottonmouth, Jizno come on that’s right
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| Get your ball on, get your ball on
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| Ball… ball…balling
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| Where the pimps and playas mayn, that stay dubbed out
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| Commission rich click, we balling and thugged out
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| Everytime you see us, you know the love out
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| Platinum in the ghetto, we moving the scrubs out
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| Hit your block acting bad, don’t play
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| Flossing and looking good, everyday all day
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| The young Don, wanted money went and got it
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| Now I’m on the mic, rapping and talking bout it
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| With Jam Down, off top it’s whatever
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| You won’t see me, unless it’s chrome and leather
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| A certified, B-A double L-A
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| A ghetto superstar, before the Y2K
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| Been stunning since day one, if you know what I mean
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| Switch up to BET, I’m in front of your screen
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| My dog 8 Ball, get money don’t stop
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| Keep they head turning with the ice I rock, and I’m balling
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| Now we gon' rise to the top, like scutter and bubble up
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| And every time we drop, playa we double up
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| Kottonmouth polished up, and then I’m gloss
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| Crawl before I walk, then I’m gon' floss
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| Sipping on two heavy pints, of the 'noid
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| Coming out the showroom flo', we Rally Boys
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| Play makers game breakers, mayn we just some MVP’s
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| Most valuable players, Rally and C.M.G.
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| From the I-4−5, we flip
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| The first niggaz that hit your block, in a spaceship
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| I’m with the Rally Boys, C.M.G. |
| is what I claim
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| T-E-X-A-S, where we lay down the game
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| This is Southside, and we got chips on that
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| And put a fresh set of dubs, on that brand new Lac
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| We bring pain mayn, when we riding swangs
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| It’s so much rocks on the piece, it’s a hell of a shame what
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| Rally and C.M.G., I-45 connect
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| Drop the track pass the mic, and bet that damn fools wreck
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| No disrespect, we simply on a mission for mills
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| To keep the crush up in our cup, and grip the wood grain wheels
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| (now how it feel), to hit them gates and houses on hills
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| (now how it feel), to roll them bubble eyes on stainless steel
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| I keep it real, and now-a-days I sho' feel good
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| Worldwide affiliated, and I still ball in my hood and I’m balling
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| Stay strapped and fully loaded, in this balling game
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| Let your top down slow, cause it’s a beautiful thang
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| No doubt I’m showing out, every chance I get
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| Start a fire up on the streets, with these raps I spit
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| I be flossing and flipping and tipping, and coming down
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| The youngest the thoedest the coldest, from H-Town
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| Nothing but coupes and dubs, when I’m up in the pad
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| And you speak on what you got, playa not what ya had
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| I tell you now, ain’t nothing like the real thing baby
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| Rovers and Escalades, Lexus plus Mercedes
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| I floss that I bought that, I do what I please
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| And I get my grind on, cause I love this cheese
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| We be balling down South, for real and that’s a fact
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| Rolling dubs and clubs, platinum and all that
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| I’m Lil' Keke the Don, and I got nothing but love
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| But you get your toss on, 'fore they call you a scrub and we balling |