C-Styles - Mash for Our Cash lyrics

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C-Styles - Mash for Our Cash lyrics

[Intro] Ha, hold up out the Shop looking good Know I'm tal'n bout, Rayface out the Shop Slim, them boys out the Shop It's going down, know I'm saying Me, C-Styles and Big Sin, 2002 Drop L-Dogs looking good, this how it go down Know I'm saying, er'body acting bad Believe that Troy, this how we gon do it ha [Hook] Man I'm in my drop-drop, rolling on the chop-chop Boppers gon bop-bop, but it don't stop-stop Third Coast's finest, feel what we spitting Like a platinum Rolex, we just roll we ain't ticking Balling in the mix, gotta get the drank mix Ooh fool, this is what we do Throw up a deuce, then we just smash E, Slim and C watch us mash for our cash [Verse 1: Slim Thug] I top drop on 4's, and pop trunk on hoes I'm closing candy do's, free on blow snow From the Tre to the Fo', in my topless dancer It's that elbow pouncer, yellow bone enhancer I can make you catch cancer, cause I smoke so much I stack do' so much, I wreck the flow so much I get much respect, when I come down your block And what you call rags, but we call drops When my trunk unlock, the whole block gon stop Cause I'ma make the boppers bop, and your mama call the cops I got five T.V.'s, playing DVD's While me and three G's, blowing on three trees And it's 80 degrees, top dropping weather The weather done got better, I'm lied back on leather A young trend setter, whenever I ride I'm top dropping worldwide, representing H-Town [Hook] [Verse 2: E.S.G.] I'm out the Shop don't stop, my top dropped for the summer Everything dipped in chrome, from my rims to my bumper Low pro Yokohamas, eight fifteen's knock (*beeping*), remote control air shocks Trunk pop hang flip, flop I'm on the tip-top Two liter Sprite, bout to hit the sip spot Haters get got, got a stash spot for Glock Infrared dot, protect the rocks in my watch Dump it like a Sasquatch, when it chop your block Nuts the size of watermelons, did you see tell him we hot Got the game in a headlock, we coming through While them haters shoo-shoo, we run choo-choo's Like hoo-doo, we put hexes on n***as T.V.'s in the headrest, DTS'ing these n***as Best in Texas n***a, so back-back fool We ride with heat, the size of Shaq's shoes [Hook] [Verse 3: C-Styles] Drop top trunk pop, I'm mashing fast Pop my trunk I show my gla**, I'm acting a damn a** A screen on my dash, size of computer screens You can hear the six fifteen's, and the V-dozen machine I'm pulling up mean, and my candy still dripping Mix the Sprite with the lean, and I'm still sipping Got Mr. Q-Y, and them haters set tripping I got the Lexus back, and I'm S-Cla** flipping I swang to the lot, to get the drop PT Cruiser Throw the boy out the roof, representing Bogalusa We slamming E.S.G., we got's to get the Cardiers Cause we ball like Jason, Dujan and Battier Sixteen-five for a bird, so n***a quit hating In Texas they ride swangs, in Louisiana it's daytons Screens fall no hesitation, my trunk still shaking And the four 18's, got my Neons breaking [Hook] [Outro: E.S.G.] Drop, tops Swang on bops, f** cops Whoa, no That's how Dirty South n***as roll

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