| I hold my cup up, I let my top down
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| And everywhere I look they pourin' up now
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| Say shout out to them Texas niggas, Texas niggas
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| I do this shit for Texas, nigga
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| Bitch, I hear ya talkin'
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| You about that shit, then take that off
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| Fake ass niggas gotta lay down
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| Reppin' H-Town, now a nigga can’t play that off
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| Niggas came down to the city, stole from the city
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| Hoes from the city like «play that song»
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| These rap niggas know I’m the new nigga
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| But no nigga gotta put Kirko on
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| Bitches know I’m 'bout it, man
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| Love the way that I swang that chrome
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| I be all in her body man
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| Every bitch that I fuck, I own
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| Uh, while you be tryna marry the bitch
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| Ain’t tryna burn, but this money I’m tryna bury quick
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| Ooh, I’m sippin' on that purple stuff
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| Ho, I ain’t 'bout to pour you up
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| Ooh, I’m sippin' on that purple stuff
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| Nigga, I ain’t 'bout to pour you up
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| When I hold my cup up, it’s just like lifting weights
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| Look like I’m chewin' instead of sippin' because this is an 8
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| I don’t want no soda, homie, I’d rather sip it straight
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| I’m an OG out that screwed up clique
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| King of the Ghetto, this is my name
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| I be rollin' on swangers with candy black paint on 'em
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| If it rain, still ain’t gon' get a stain on 'em
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| I’m from Texas, you can tell how I talk
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| I’m from Texas, you can tell how I walk
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| Six-piece wing dinner from Frenchy’s
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| King of the ghetto, ain’t never been friendly
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| Just put eleven more ounces in me
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| Whenever you see me, my cup ain’t empty
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| So many fifteens, so many twelves, so many 6−5-9s
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| I’m bangin' so hard, everybody else bangin'
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| But I don’t give a fuck if they park by mine
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| I’ve got a thunder trunk
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| I keep coughin' cause I smoke thunder skunk
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| I’ve got the lightning dick, I need thunder cunt
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| And I dare any one of y’all niggas to mess with Texas
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| Texas gon' fuck you up
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| First they steal your lighter, then they steal your style
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| Fat Pat is my idol, I’ve got twenty bands on my smile
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| Forgot to pay they homage, they just reuse and recycle
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| Man, they lie so much that they don’t know the truth
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| But they’ll swear to God on the Bible
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| I don’t know where they do that at
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| But it damn sure ain’t in Texas
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| Ridin' in the 'Lac down 45, I-10 is my exit
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| I do this shit for the city, swangin'
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| I’ve got wood grain in my Leffries
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| Pimp C is the greatest
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| Motherfucker, talkin' down is a death wish
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| Codeine is my fetish — pourin' up is a way of life
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| Legend stealer, Jerome Bettis
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| You punk sipper ain’t drakin' it right
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| 8 or all, that’s a day in the life
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| Open trunk, and array of lights
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| They used to say this was local shit
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| Now everywhere drinkin' muddy Sprite
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| Pour up…
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| I rep for Texas, nigga
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| You gon' respect us, nigga
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| We got ya sippin' out them white cups like Texas niggas
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| Got ya shinin' diamond grills like them Texas niggas
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| Rappers screwed up and chopped like them Texas niggas
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| You get the message, nigga? |
| So chop some checks up with us
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| Them broads be tryna get us, cause they know we them niggas
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| She love my Texas swag, and how I keep it G
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| Let her roll in the slab, she wanna be seen with me
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| I tell her pay that fee, it’s pimpin' with me, mane
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| Ask any bitch in Texas, ain’t no sippin' with me, mane
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| Still drippin' candy stains, got that drink by the pint
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| Cause I’m a Texas nigga, what we do Kurt Cobain |