(feat. Lucky Luciano, Shyykidd, South Park Mexican)
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[Happy Perez]
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[scratching]
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"Lone Star ranger"
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"Lone Star ranger"
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"Lone Star ranger" ("Sit-sittin' on swanger")
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"Lone Star ranger"
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"Lone Star ranger"
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"Lone Star ranger" ("Sit-sittin' on swanger") -- [Lucky Luciano]
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[Chorus: Shyykidd]
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Don't mess with Texas, oh no
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We just so damn, what, so cold
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Competition
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You could really want it
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When you backing down, look what we have accomplished
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Don't mess with Texas, oh no
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We just so damn, what, so cold
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Got the big bangers
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Cause the last swangers
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Paint drippin', boy, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout
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[Verse 1: Lucky Luciano {Lucky Luciano slowed down}]
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Ay, Lucky Lu', gon' come through, and do this here for Screw zoo
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I'm a Texas boy, eating barbecue, and sippin' on red Mountain Dew
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{Lone Star ranger, sittin' on swanger}
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One in the chamber, ready for the danger
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Five cliffhangers, I'm a show 'em how to tip toe
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Here to wreck a set, bang, when I drop my fifth O
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H-Town, San Anton', ATX, Fort Worth
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Dallas to the valley, man, it's all about the work
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What you know about the great state of Texas
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Rocks in a necklace, leave a {bitch} breathless
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Home of the players and the styrofoam cups
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Woodgrain wheel and I'm ridin' on bucks
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Paint look slippery, drank not Hennessey
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Brand new Bentley, same ol' triple beam
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Uh
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And I'm Draped Up and dripped out
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Eighty-four spiderwebs, got your boy tipped out
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[Repeat Chorus]
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[Verse 2: South Park Mexican]
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I got chicks like Pamela, from H to Canada
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The only game I ever played good was Gallahger
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Cold like Alas-a-ka, flip 'em like spatula
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People be trying to bite my flows like Dracula's
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Spectacular, my rappin' doesn't seem to have a replica
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Angel, I saw a dude go from Jesse to Jessica
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Dope fiend blessed, I'm a money making maniac
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Born in the gutter like a little cute baby rat
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My lady's tat got SPM in faded black
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People say you look like Carlos Coy, but, ain't he fat
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Just like a janie sack, I'm been gettin' Slim Fast
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Prison life turn my cell block into a gym class
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Pull-ups off my top bunk, bench press my mattress
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Curlin' pillow cases full of books and a atlas
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Can you understand this or has a G lost touch
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Walkin' in my con chucks, livin' out long months
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[Repeat Chorus]
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[Verse 3: Baby Bash]
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It's that Dope House Records, jammin' out of Texas
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Mayne, I'm so powerful with quick reflexes
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With the SP Mex's, South Park on hollow
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Happy P., got the beats on steroids like (??)
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If I'm Italian, I'm a Capo, yeah, fully made
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Retire from the game, and still get fully paid
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Yeah
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It's the Dope House prophet
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Thirty-five and forty-five in the state, keep it poppin'
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Boy, what you slangin'
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Boy, what you slangin'
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Ridin' big body, playboy, what you sangin'
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Smashing down ten with a farm in my woodgrain
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Hit San Anton', and you know it's all good, mayne
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[Repeat Chorus]
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Don't Mess With Texas
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| Baby Bash |
