they talkin' dyin' on Texas, uh, they talkin' dyin' on Texas
they talkin' dyin' on Texas, uh,
they talkin' dyin' on Texas
Man, these niggas done got me turnt up,
these niggas done got me turnt
they talkin' dyin' on Texas
These niggas done got me turnt up,
these niggas done got me turnt up
On the street, they talkin', dyin' on Texas
I can really, rap East High,
H -Town, check it, do some givin' down
Five hundred million sittin' in my lap
Bravo, bravo, I told my top,
take a look at me now though I go,
And being fake was a HIV disease
We copped a type of whip that
I'm on a type of shit that y 'all ain't
And the only language that I speak
they talkin' dine on Texas
Cause all we know is candy loaves,
bangin' slammin' catty doors
Lil' mama don't look inside,
cause your eyes just might get froze
I'm comin' down in that big ol' boat,
little nigga better get off the road
I'm ridin' 1976, 99, back in the midst
Got a bed with flat screen
Takin' over the rap scene
cause I'm back in the deck
You know we gettin' that G,
No DJ Kelly, but we the best
Pull up shinin', iced out diamonds
All over my wrist and shit
they talkin' dyin' on Texas
Uh, they talkin' dyin' on Texas
Word, now word, word on the street
They talkin' dyin' on Texas
Uh, they talkin' dyin' on Texas
Man, these niggas done got me turnt up
These niggas done got me turnt up
they talkin' dyin' on Texas
These niggas done got me turnt up,
These niggas done got me twerked up
On the street they talkin' dine on Texans
Well I'm a east side nigga,
Deep in Texas where them killers
then you ain't talkin' to us
Been sippin' purple all day,
And I'm still reppin' that Texas shit
Boy my swag I need an exorcist
I got a box frame like a Mexican bitch
Yo new bitch, my past tense
Wanna get like me, you need practice
Got a couple cars, I don't never drive
But not one hoe that I ain't never hit
try tellin' niggas far from the shit
You see on television, I'm a country boy
unless you talkin' bout the ones in my engine
I pay dues, you pay attention
My swag grown, you need a babysitter
My slaps fussed by Willy Wonka
My paint job look tasty, nigga
Fat lady singin' Me, she snitchin'
I get that bitch murdered for a cheat toot
ain't nobody fuckin' with me
Texas ain't your home, nigga,
mind your fuckin' business