Boss Hogg Outlawz - Outta Control Flow lyrics

(*talking*) Uh, Boss Hogg Outlawz It's Outlaw season baby, Boyz N Blue uh Here to serve and collect, you know what I'm saying Uh what, PJ check it out what what [PJ] What's up motherf**ers, how you doing how you feel It's Outlaw season, and we hunting for scrill What's up motherf**ers, how you doing how you feel It's Outlaw season, and we hunting for scrill What's up motherf**ers, how you doing how you feel It's Outlaw season, and we hunting for scrill On the corner posted up, boys g**ning Got my block on lock, big chain hanging I get love from the hoes, much respect from the G's k**ing all snitches, cause these rats copping pleas Say I roll solo, but I can call up a mob If the price right n***a, I'll take up the job PJ the young n***a, that don't sleep On a late night creep, with a young freak Say I chill all day, run the streets all night I'm strapped up ready, everything's alright Hold up wait a minute, let me hit the dro b**h recognize a hog, when I hit the do' You can cry get mad, but I'm not leaving Move around s**ers, it's Outlaw season what [Sir Daily] n***a, pa** the dutch Daily in the do', got cash to touch Bentley Sprewells, I'ma mash the clutch Chick in my whip, I'ma mash the s*ut n***a crash for what, no sir I'ma steal the road, never be sober I'ma still be blowed If it stay summer time, I'll still be cold You broke n***as, don't feel me though I'ma stay, on my note From my wrist to my ring, to the chain on my throat n***a get paid, for everything that he spoke Daily on top, you insane to provoke All you lames is a joke, I get change while you broke Fold out six, in a Range blowing smoke Yes sir, inhale that cuz n***a hit the weed, what the hell that was That hydro bud, can I buy some cuz Not from me I don't sell, I only smoke to get high as can be But, I can spare a little that you can clutch Ben you see me in them streets, n***a pa** the dutch Pa** the dutch Daily in the do', got cash to touch [Kyleon] I pull up looking good, with the woman on the hood Top dropping fifth falling, hand fondling the wood Trunk beating up the block, like child abuse Kyle's the truth, I hang with the wildest group Boss Hogg Outlawz, that's my gangsta team Reclining the bu*ter back, that's a gangsta lean Hell yeah this gangsta bling, you know the boy glistening Watch chain and ring, act like they auditioning I got cookies in the oven, plus pies for sale Plus a sixteen, boys know I'm live as hell Coming behind me on a track, is like riding a whale You know that ain't happening, just quit rapping and Come to H-Town, ask bout me Bet they tell you, ain't a damn thang whack bout me And you gon get mo' heat, than Shaq about me Flows dope, like I'm spitting cooked crack about me [Chris Ward] On the real, who you know flow better than I Don't say yourself, cause I'll spray this lead in your eye I treat money like lettuce shredded, then wet it to dry C-Wiggity-Whoadie-Weez, is one hell of a guy Boys fall off giving up, not knowing it's better to try But sit around, like the money gon fall dead from the sky We make the rules in these streets, and it's best you comply Or get layed down face down, left stretched out to die See we X'ing haters out n***a, one by one Then throwing away the hot heaters n***a, gun by gun See I'm a gangsta, no not a Blood or a Crip But I keep slugs in a clip, that'll plug up your whip I got a connect from Cali, that send me jugs of that dip And I love the block, so catch me hugged up with the strip Still I got nice prices, on jugs of that sip You can call me Chris Wizzard, or C-W Now let's cap stack for stack, car for car Let's rap track for track, bar for bar Let's go battle for battle, war for war Better yet bruise for bruise, scar for scar n***a Tell the truth, you don't wanna compete Got one on my hip, one in the stash and one under the seat