Baby Bash - Don't Mess With Texas lyrics

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