What ya know about switching lanes holding wood grain
What ya know about switching lanes holding wood grain
What ya know about switching lanes holding wood grain
What ya, what ya know about, what ya, what ya know about
What ya know about that candy paint with butter guts
V-b-s, princess cuts with purple stuff up in my cup
Im grippin on that grain man, switching lane to lane man
In my Rover Range man, like Collie on them heaven thang
Im in the parking lot with my candy apple drop
Hop inside, press a button, watch my top pass out
See Im a hustler on my grind, the four vogues fit for reclining
Watch me smile and show my grill so yall can see that Im a shine
2 8 1, 3 3 oh, eight zero zero fo
Thats my cell phone number hit me up on the low
Im from the city of the clutch where the music screwed up
Im switching lanes, holding grain, about to tear the curb up, baby
What ya know about some vogue tires and 84s
Candy paint red cherry blossom drippin off the door
Im from the place where our smiles stay iced out
Diamonds in our mouth, baby jammin on this Swishahouse
Im Paul Wall the peoples champ, the trunk popper
Im something like a chick magnet catching all the boppers
We used to ride choppers back in 9-8
Still jammin grey tapes in this Lone Star state
Im from the place we be sippin on prescription cough syrup
Its some icy white shoes and a tall tee shirt
I got the trunk on crack with neon lights in the back
We still jammin Robert Davis what ya know about that baby
Pulling up holding, got the top folding
Got vogues on my lo when I got the drop strolling
Got Now N Later paint (paint)
Peter Pan guts (guts)
15s banging I can beat a man up
Big grill in the lady, gat in the waist
See the 5th wheel sleepin when Im sliding away
Poppin my trunk, you see the lights glowing
Me and Paul Wall leaning, you see the Sprite pouring
Its an H-Town thang when you riding on swangs
In that candy coated frame grippin on that wood grain
You call em hoes, we call em bops
You call em rags, we call em drops
Killa!
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