(*talking*)
Oh yeah, all the fucked niggas gotta get the fuck out the way
Know what time it is nigga, Screwed Up Click
[Hook]
Man fuck that nigga, (fuck that nigga)
Keep running your mouth, I'mma touch that nigga
Man fuck that nigga, (fuck that nigga)
You ain't heard about my state, we Screwed Up nigga
Will-Lean you riding, (yeah I'm riding)
B.G. Duke you riding, (yeah I'm riding)
Z-Ro you riding, (yeah I'm riding)
Point Blank you riding, (hell yeah I'm riding)
[Will-Lean]
Motherfuck you I'll rush you, bitch I don't trust you
Like AT&T, my guillotines reach out and touch ya
Bust ya like a head off your shoulders, then dust ya
Pluck my desert eagle to the bone, then crush ya
See I'm a hustler, just look at my wrist
All yellow canary diamonds, looking like piss
Yo Flip, these boys acting sour
I got money and respect, plus I'm packing power
Stacking up dollars, niggas wanna fuck with me
If it's hood it's all good, so tuck your heat
Even though I'm on parole, I still clutch my heat
Pick up the street sweeper, to sweep up the street
[B.G. Duke]
I got my serve, that ain't your mama
Smack you with the pistol and tell ya, I ain't your mama
I'm ready for drama, I sleep with the fo' pound
It ain't shit, to send my free lancers to your town
Ladies, we just ain't talking bout you
Cause some of these niggas, is bitches too
And you know who, no need to say no name
I'mma gas these niggas up, like a tank of propane
They say we ain't strapped, they lied to ya
They say Flip ain't from Cloverland, they lied to ya
We got the mansion three kitchen, ain't lying brah
Mayback reclining seats, 'case we get tired brah
[Hook]
[Z-Ro]
Everytime I open my mouth, I'mma see talking shit
Fuck a rap nigga I slap niggas, it's best you keep on walking bitch
I represent the Southside, of Screwston Texas
Got my name spinning in yellow diamonds, right up under my Rap-A-Lot necklace
But fuck some shine brah, I'll loosen your tooth
Better get wet ya with my tech weapon, and swoop in the coupe
Cause I'm a gangsta my nigga, coming from the left side
Equipped with a pistol grip, that will open your chest wide
I'm the King of the Ghetto, I gave myself that name
Ain't nobody help me get rich, I made myself that change
Talking bout charging me twenty thousand dollars, to spit a verse
Bitch I'm a legend read about me, fuck it come and see about me
Right now I'm at war with eleven niggas, and seven record labels
You can jump your narrow ass in line, and straight up get strangled
Z-Ro the Crooked, the gangsta of the Screwed Up Click
Fuck all that ear boxing, go 'head and lace ya shoes up bitch
[Hook]
[Point Blank]
Watch your mouth now, cause what you say can bring death
One day you gon say some shit, a nigga can't accept
Point Blank the Bull, a big chip off the old block
It ain't gotta be in Cloverland, to be a Clover Gee block
Boy we run this shit, Flip having fun with this shit
And you tripping, Blank how the fuck you get a gun in this bitch
When I see him nighty night, Southside gon be iight
I know I might do some time, just shoot me a kite
I write straight from the heart, so I shoot straight for the heart
If Flip said fuck T.I., then it's fuck that mark
Southsi' for li', till I flatline trick
Talk a lot of shit, but I can back mine bitch what's up
[Hook]
[Lil' Flip]
Oh no, that nigga ain't scaring me
Look I don't wanna hear about, your ass weighing ki's
This lil' nigga ain't a threat, you a peon nigga
Cause in my hood, I play the corner like Deon nigga
Them niggas only fuckin' with you cause you pay em for beats
And I saw that bullshit grill you got on your teeth
My grill cost thirty G's, my ice cost fifteen
Say you gained a lil' weight, if you drank some lean
Ay, I got beef with a nigga that weigh eighty pounds
He wear my bracelet in the pool, that nigga probably drown
Big Oomp got my back, Pastor Troy got my back
And you know, Ludacris got my fucking back
Asking bout my whole team, he know I roll with G's
So why should I fear a man, that bleed like me
Down in Texas, we ain't feeling you kid
As far as record sales go, I'm killing you bitch
[Hook]
(*talking*)
Nigga, now how you gon' try to charge Z-Ro
Twenty grand, for a ma'fuckin' verse
Nigga, that shit ain't worth a god damn wing dinner bitch
