The South - Trae Tha Truth, Z-Ro

Yeah we back nigga, S.L.A.B

Slow Loud And Bangin' mayn, Yung Redd

My nigga Trae yeah, I’m just saying though mayn

Still the money making money, grind

Still out here, in this rap game

You niggas days is out, you know I’m tal’n bout

I’m just addressing the situation, know I’m saying

For y’all ain’t know, it is plex nigga what’s up

I been through every hood, I stood on every block

But welcome to the South, partna what they talking bout

Hustled on every spot, my wheels never stop

So welcome to the South, partna what they talking bout

I been through every hood, I stood on every block

So welcome to the South, partna what they talking bout

Hustled on every spot, my wheels never stop

21 gun salute, and we clear the parking lot

It’s the corner that’s where I stay, a concrete jungle but it’s where I play

With a second to die but a minute to pray, when you in H-Town watch what you say

South Coast on down to MLK, lot of motherfuckers die everyday all day

Better walk right planning on walking our way, then you better have a

conversation with the AK

Nigga fuck foreign these niggas don’t play, gangsta type niggas like Boss and

Trae

Lil B and Redd gon empty that lead, don’t matter if it’s night time or in broad

day

Rolling in a mission coming down Broadway, bout to dump on a chump 17 the hard

way

Out of respect we don’t trip on the Lord’s day, but anyday could be go to war

day

We got Crips and Bloods and clips and drugs and, sheisty ass niggas that’ll rob

they cousins

And punk police that be spitting no peace, acting like hoes all I know’ll cock

they dozens

So I ride on niggas and disquise on niggas, but always keep my eyes on niggas

I don’t wanna have to pull a five on niggas, bet the motherfuckers it’ll be a

crime won’t it

You could say I’m on that Kay Slay shit, I’m a motherfucking drama king

I ain’t gotta sing, bout all them guns that I’ma bring

So it seems, you niggas it’s Halloween

No gangstas just masks, I don’t know them Clover G’s naw

If you thinking I’m slipping then try, sleep with them heaters beside me

Me and them killas is riding, uh-huh

Toss what you think I mean, 7−1-3 is the name of my team

This ain’t a game them nines’ll bang, it’ll rain and split your frame

Yung Redd, is still the best kept secret

You so far from the hood, this beef shit is your weakness yeah

Give respect, where respect due

Fuck what the rest do, Sucka Free I move with select few

It’s drama in any kind of whether, you better duck 'fore the heat come get ya

Everybody suspect so we gon load the Mack up, with some’ing that’ll burn when

it hit ya

Bitch I’ma get ya, and it ain’t no way you niggas fin to come cross my set

Assholes coming out of mother nature, with hands that’s known to wreck

Fucking with my slab and I’m known to plex, pop my trunk and I cause a mess

Four 15's and a bitch on top of the grill, I might put your shit to rest

By the way that I tip my slab, jelly slab when I flip my AVE

Whether South gon connect with the West, with nothing less then wood wheel I

grab

You say you thoed but don’t make me laugh, bitch we been raw on the mic

Y’all had y’all second of fame to try to run the game, but now we bout to go on

and take flight

I’m a SK G and a leader of the wolfpack, so I’m about to get the hood back

Right where we started yep now we got the hood back, so these niggas wanna pull

back

Just like I thought you niggas ain’t built for this, the type of shit you on

you get killed for this

And that’s gangsta I put it on my click, so niggas don’t get fooled you ain’t

real with this

These niggas know they good, to get dropped in the hood

Let’s get it understood, I floss with Boss and grip wood

Four deep and corner to corner, and every city to city

I bleed blocks with rocks, showing 'em no pity

I’m still that nigga, that ride or die for the Southside

You get to tripping, this wood gon ripping your mouth wide

Open and scoping, poking 'em in your brain

Yelling out A.B.N.

South Klique, cause that’s the gang

Nigga I got killas from Acre Shakers, to the South-West

Sunnyside 3rd Ward, niggas’ll rip your chest

Plus I got Ridgemont 4, Mo City killas

Riding for Lil B, better go get your guerillas

You ride around, on your little ass dubs

With your little ass thugs, with your little ass mugs

With your lil' bitty guns, with your lil' bitty slugs

It’s J-Doe S-Dub-V, you heard of us

When I jump on the track, with S.L.A.B.

I’m murderers

Since Trae got my name hot, now they curious

But I’ve been on the block, and niggas wasn’t feeling us

Ever since we pulled a three out, they see we serious

And I keep that thang with me, like my nigga Boss bang-bang

Down South nigga, sitting on 4's and we swang-swang

Down a pint smoke some dro, and still try to maintain

Born to see the the mood of Houston now, about to do my thang

Pick up ya pace better pick up ya face, Boss in the house bout to stick up the

place

Let the Glock go hick-up in ya face, nigga when the Maab step up in the place

Niggas trying to get paid from fifty states, niggas got pack for sales off the

scale

You try to stop a nigga dope sale, post my licks up in the hotel

Got a few fiends I know that won’t tell, trying to sit low with stacks of mo'

mail

Sco' by the barrell and green by the bail, cool and the cut no time for no gel

Fresh bandanas Chuck’s and pig tails, trying to find me a new trip we can bail

Gotta get paid with no time to fail, gotta flip another double whole sale