Look, I woke up in this bitch like haah
In a gang of paper like haah
Hand full of gold and purple and it
Ain't the Lakers like boy
Playa shit, now your girl she boppin'
When you drunk and start to
It look like Karl and Stockton
From the town of hustle like Hardwood
Then I'm the hardest out here
Shit yo favorite artist like a porta pottie
And these rap niggas so fake to me
I'm gettin' paid to speak
Hoe this the major league bitch nigga, I
Born to lose but I'm raised to win
When you trill mane, you just can't pretend
Bad hoes, got em chest to chest
I just want the head, I'm like Professor X
Only UGK shit can bless the deck
I'm Big Steve for real, I resurrect the best
Never sold a drug but took my show money
And all these haters talk shit
But they don't damage none
Hiram Clarke I really never plan to run
Started with a little tryna manage crumbs
Now I'm a 6 figure nigga still
Wish they would try to step on my shoes
Bitch I'm worth too much money
With some other guy, bitch that ain't me
Bitch you can get this dick
But conversation ain't free
Trill niggas from the city
On a hustle for that paper bitch
Drop that top we pop that trunk we
Hit that spot we shut it down
Niggas know we bout to kill it
Every time we come around
Uh i pulled up in that 4 door Bentley but
I pulled off in a 2 seater
Yeah I started my career with a nigga named
Ended up with a nigga named
New NWA around here who got
Something to say around here
A lotta people inviting me but
This year I'm goin filet another $100
000 that's where I'm going today
Yeah the cameras flashin'
They tryna see me and my people but
You and yo hoe in the way
I go in, then I go hard when I'm in there
I take it where these other rappers can't
My nigga I'm the God Rapper
Do you really think I give a
Fuck what these other rapper think
Rappers bookin' shows now cause they ain't
I appreciate that deposit chief
You know you ain't gettin'
Fuckin' right, imma go to another club
If another club got that 10 racks for me
If it's beef my nigga just come to Mo City
Get out ya shit and just ask for me
I'm a Houston Rocket, a Houston Texan
A Houston Astro and all that
I'm a Houston gangsta, if you ain't gangsta
When you come to Houston better fall back
Better stay on Post Oak, the friendly end
Over the Belt Way ain't no friendly men
Salute all my people that's in the pen
When Pharaoh come home put him in a Benz
Wish they would try to step on my shoes
Bitch I'm worth too much money
With some other guy, bitch that ain't me
Bitch you can get this dick
But conversation ain't free
Trill niggas from the city
On a hustle for that paper bitch
Drop that top we pop that trunk we
Hit that spot we shut it down
Niggas know we bout to kill it
Every time we come around
Yeah man you know I can recall vividly man
Standin' on that corner man, you know
Herschelwood and Windemere
Maybe 40 or 50 dollars worth of rocks man
And I can remember man Corey
Blount and Quincy and Bubba
And Stick comin' thru in them slants
Red on white, 4's, bumpin, kit's, grills
You know the real red outta Ike
You know, I'm talkin' bout 30
40 thousand dollars worth of slab
60 dollars worth of rocks in your hand man
It seemed so far away man
It seemed like we'd never make it
Yeah, I remember those girls man
Standin' out in front of the
And, we'd walk out and ask em
For their phone numbers man
And they're lookin' at us like
Pile of shit on us or something at the time
And Blount and them just comin' thru man
And all this was based on slab man, and
That's when slab really meant