Chris Ward - Bonus Track lyrics

(*talking*) Down South Cartel baby Put your game face on, what Corleon, H-A-W-K, Godfather baby, C. Whodi [Hook] In H-Town, we got them cakes brah We charge em high, out of state brah Look at the money, we can make brah Holla, if you need that weight brah [Godfather] I had to switch the game, playas ain't on my level I can make a n***a, take a trip to the devil Here in the route game, make a brick from a pebble Like UNLB, Godfather I'm a rebel White collared crime, look at money like Melo Buried itself, dug a hole with a shovel Crack I use to hustle, was the pieces to the puzzle k**as in my yard, pits don't wear muzzles Win a lot of fights, get the chips like Ruffles Potato on the nozzle, so the gun sounds muffle Off eight balls, in the hood I juggle Guard the sent, with Saran wrap and Snuggle Family live around, a lot of rocks like the Rubbles Menage tois, hit girls by the double Wear and co*k the glue, for a thirty Lex bubble Just a mama's boy, you don't want no trouble [Hook] [H.A.W.K.] Here in my city, show motherf**ing respect Welcome to the state, called Big Ballin' Texas Rams and pyrexes, rocks up in our necklace Live up give up, catch one in you solo plexers Hummers Benz and Lexus, hogging up the lane Quarters halves and ounces, hogging up the game A lot of thangs done changed, but I remain the same Spitting nothing but flames, still moving c**aine So my satisfaction, is f**ing with the fraction Addition subtraction, equals up to stacking Homeboy you lacking, still out here jacking H.A.W.K. I was packing, so what's crack-a-lacking Freeze that lip smacking, if you ain't paid Or I'll take action, rain on your parade Put a hole in your fade, or a slug in your braids For f**ing with a n***a, that's already made [Hook] [Mike D] Six ki's on the street, packing my heat I can't be beat, still staying on feet I'm back in the kitchen, whipping up another knot Off lock down, and I'm still on my grind I guess they ain't heard about, them n***as in that Dirty 3rd Coast, we got that yay by the boat It's in Mexico, ain't in Florida no mo' Ain't in California, cause down in Texas we got the dope I told y'all, to hit us on the beep Plant 1-5-3, where you gon get it cheaper Coffee mug beaters, interstate bleeders City to city head to head, dope game feeders Twelve aimed at y'all, when I handle that raw Hundred zippers out the brick, coldest head you ever saw I'ma beat me a n***a, cheat me a n***a Let them 40 Glock shells, straight up eat me a n***a [Hook] [Chris Ward] It's C. Ward my n***a, you know the block flooder I turn pure raw yay, into rocks of bu*ter The c**aine cutter, there is no other n***a like C. Weezie, that got nothing but love for the Cash my n***a, trying to stack and add To the stash my n***a, come up short You might get brains, bashed my n***a I'll be all around the block In and all about like Jumping Jack Flash my n***a So holla heeey, like the girls When they see me, with the yaaay I grind all night, and all daaay Trying to get my motherf**ing paaay, now what you say By the way I come through, in that blue pick up Lac Dropping off twenty chicks at a time, can you pick up that Two hours later, I'm back to pick up stacks You don't have it don't worry about it, I got a hick up gat That'll hick-up hick-up, and make you spit up splat Leave your jersey holy and molly, dissect your membrane And turn your fitted, into a split up hat And the prices are much higher, if you coming from out of state And if you don't spend regular, n***a you gotta wait Cause money is time, and my time is money If you waste that you chipping in, on my new 600 n***a what