(feat. Bun B, The MddlFngz)
[Intro - People - talking]

"Hey man, what's wrong with you?"

"Fuck you lookin at nigga?"

"I'm still tryin to find out nigga!"

"Hold up, hold up, oh, we got a problem here?"

"We got a problem here, we got a problem nigga?"



[gun shots]



[Verse 1 - Bun B]

It's the return of the trill niggaz, hide your stash (stash)

We dressed in all black and got the hood on smash (smash)

I Roc ya like Dame Dash (Dash), one shot, one kill [gun shot]

Ask anybody (body) and they gon' tell ya Bun real (Southern Smoke)

It's a done deal when I pull up on ya

Calico get unleashed [gun shots], niggaz clearin the corner

Perfect to me and ten (me and ten), we movin much weight

And this one for Pimp in a penitentiary upstate

Damn, come on Bun, wait

Naw nigga, this one dedicated to Pimp in a penitentiary upstate

'Til he come home, in his name we ballin

We never forget the homies on lock or the fallen

Band I.T., Young 'lo and Bad Azz Bam

Sean Wee and Big Munst' and we ain't givin a damn

If you need a kilogram, two, three or a dozen

Come on down to Texas, holla at your country cousin



[Chorus - Bun B]

I can show you how to get stains, how to flip 'caine

Show you how to grip grain, how to grip stains

Bitch we deep off in the game (bitch we deep off in the game)

Bitch we deep off in the game (bitch we deep off in the game)



We be creepin in your backdoors, cockin back fours

Show you how to mack hoes, slammin 'lac doors

Bitch we deep off in the game (bitch we deep off in the game)

Bitch we deep off in the game (bitch we deep off in the game)

Already



[Verse 2 - Young Kilo]

Yeah, I learned how to shoot a MAC-10 'fore I turned 12

Hot shells burn, black skin turn pale

You out to get mail? 

I show you boys how to sell yay and how to tell what it weigh without a scale

Motel 6, hard blow sell quick

And I ain't gon' sell shit

You'll sell nicks and dimes, twenties, even three dollar club sacks

Buy y'all private, guaranteed to come back 



[Verse 3 - Bad Azz Bam]

I, turn sand into rocks with soda

No wrist, just a fog tryin to rock your quota

Microwave on top of the stove, these hands is cold 

I, stretch the books, see how much water it hold

Most niggaz think the water should be cold

Really hot, keep it warm 'til the finishing lot

Not cold nigga, listen and watch

We takin bricks on the road, try to form your spot, nigga



[Verse 4 - Chamillionaire]

Yeah (Southern Smoke), you don't hear how we gettin it, then you gettin in the way

I'm gettin rich, niggaz gettin pissed, cause most pussy niggaz play

We can let that metal settle differences [gun cocked], let a clip set a date

Point guard position, I'm assistin it, so an opponent better pray

Of my environ-ment, yeah it's the Messiah

So close to the truth than you, that your fiction cannot deny a

Real nigga from gettin higher

Don't believe me than check my prior

Record, I said I'm on fire

Your "poof" like your time expired, liar, haha



[Chorus]