Lyrics
houston the momment i step in da game i played da win
I’m a o. g, homee been gettin' this since back then,
Set the city on fire, then I came back again
Let’s go,
Hustle fo' money I want mo'
Got purple by the pound, got drank, got blow
Move slow,
This candy machine is so mean
Imma chunk up the deuce, reppin 713
I’m clean, I’m nice, on a new paper route
Had some dirt up on my shoulder but it got wiped off
I’m a don,
Texas' my home, that’s where I’m from;
I belong up top next to Scarface and Bun
A lot of people are hatin' but i’m cool with that
They say H-Town is finished, but the fool is back
They been waitin' for this album for 2 years strong
The street dream on the way, drop this and I’m gone
(Slim Thug)
It’s Thug boss, spokesman for the north
Reppin H town all wins no loss,
See, I was taught to get it at all costs
Ain’t trapped in 3 years, still survivin them dross
Gettin money, still hit the bar when it’s sunny
Make them half steppers run from me
When they see me pull out the train,
I’mma bring the pain, swang and bang,
And try to come off the frame
I’m a vet up in this game, remember my name
Since I came in '98, I’ve been gettin' my chains
Slim Thug mothafucka, boss of the south
The one with the chains cost more than your house,
The boy with the blue on everything with gloss
Every time you see me, new superstar spokes
Yeah player she with me, dime so pretty
You ain’t heard the word, we gettin' money in the city
(Paul Wall)
Well it’s the lone star cat, steadily chasin' the cake
I want the chips and the cake, put it all on my plate
I go get it when it’s late, the hustle never stops
That’s why the money rollin' up, like Hunter Pence’s socks
Likewise I chop it up on …
Where the G’s will see dog on South …, posted up like trees
The corners of Goldbank, and the blocks of '59
Put the points up on my wrist, like Kobe at clutch time
I’m slidin' down Hailey street, contemplating my chess move
With screens hangin' up, like paintings in the Louvre
I was caught up in the hype, tryin' to put fame first
But now i’m back on the paper route, Lockwood and Hurst
I’m searchin for paper, from … to Scott st
My grind ain’t stoppin' 'till I’m underground, 6 feet
A go getter, with big dough
And big homey runnin' corners like Michael Borne
The whole city know we gettin' money, partna
(Chorus)