Chris Ward - Why Y'all Still Talkin Down lyrics

(Answering Machine Message) Man that n***as a hoe man This ol south a** n***a You think you throwed You ain't throwed boy Better take that weak sh** on boy This sh** ain't for kids boy Leave it to the grown men son Hoe a** n***a,weak a** n***a,dick in the booty a** n***a man,get that weak sh** out of here man n***as don't play games around here boy f** get took out in this game son Better stay on the bench where its safe boy Don't f** around wit these real hawgs{*BEAM*} (Chorus:Big Moe) Why Y'all Still Talkin Down (they still bumpin that trash) Why Y'all Still Talkin Down (gonna catch one in the mask) Why Y'all Still Talkin Down (we on points percise) Why Y'all Still Talkin Down (uh Do that Northside for life) (Big Pokey) n***as know me cause I hawg the track Low vouges on Escalade's I bought me that And everywhere I go I hall a gat A platinum plus'll slash all of that You know me I'm a balla black I'm a ball till I fall have a ball attack If I played for southern I'd hawg the swat And I'm still a D dealer I hawg all the crack Squash the chat I'm a C-E-O Ask wodie for real ya'll ask C he know Peep my steelo I'm off the chain 4 days out the week I'm flossin grain 4 month's did shows sasa (?) Got me a house built (that's awesome mayn) Knocked off the studio house of pain And I fly first cla** first off the plane (Chorus) (Chris Ward) I'm Chris Ward I'm off the stone Boulevard I stay danked out and dranked out full of noise If a hater got plex I'll pull his cards Unplug ya lights and send you to the Lord Cause I heard threw the hate line you wanna take mine Well pick a number n***a wait in line Go threw jackas like these break em down For I married the streets I went on dates wit crime And I don't make club songs I make thug songs Spitt verses and make n***as put they mugs on You s**as can catch me in Guess jeans and Nugs on Sellin on the same corner that you sell ya d** on Chris Ward is on the block and the street is mine And you don't wanna get caught up when I sweep the dime I might sweep it early I might sweep at nine And I don't care if you sleep wit ya heaters Because I creep with mine (Chorus) (Big E) When you talk behind my back you feel you lack In 2000 Big E the real pitt on the track Chitter chatter it don't matter me myself woman flatter If you talk down you'll f**in get ya brain splatter But we talkin street sweeps and Glocks Some thugged out n***as that bring heat to blocks We some swisha sweet smokers boys rich as Oprah We in the club smokin okra back of the strip like(?) Party with gardies smoke trees like jet skies Major playas who make goals like Gretsky Why ya'll mad talkin like ya'll turned fed I know ya'll the type of faker who likes bread From the dead end section Houston,Texas Get a new car every year don't need a (??) I'm a C-E-O they wanna see me flow Northside screwed up makin music go slow (Chorus) (talking till end)