Guerilla Maab - South Side Story lyrics

(feat. H.A.W.K. , Will Lean) This is my story G, day one on Southside Southside 'til I diiii-iiie... [Trae:] It gotta be Southside, all up in your face When I'm creeping and crawling, up out the states I made nineteen years, and a candidate No time to plex, I gotta stack my change And working wood on the grain, in the turning lane With a 18 thousand dolla, 'Sacci piece and chain In the big body Benz, with the raw beam Six inch TV's, when I drop the screens Drop the top, sun fin to hit the fade When I'm baller lining, I'm be a bate Looking through my sh**, watching yellow bones And its whether or not, they be creeping my car Going hard on weights, I gotta peep the game I'm in a private plane, in a private lane With 13 karats, in my pinky ring On a pen and pad, I lace up the game All on the radio, and on the TV To the world premier, we on MTV Plus so many n***az, really can't see me Body rock the states, and p op up on three's When I'm swang my 4's, I'm slamming candy do's I'm on my P's and Q's, and I love this game That's why, everybody wanna knock my hustle We done just got rich, and went platinum man [Dougie D:] Thank the Lord, for all my success Been struggling striving, trying to do my best No more canned sardine, just eight cuisines Its been a long run, running from the law Got a new pair, of shoes on feet And I owe it to the Southside, cause it's been lovely Everybody wanna run with me, and popping trunks all bubbly And everybody, in the club with me Hold up, baby you know the South is so real Whit cups sipping drank, and blowing on k** In the STS, dressed to impress With a bow legged round the side, to roll with Y'all need to just understand, its so live Many dollars ,into powder stacks right When I'm up in the Benz, drop tops in the wind Chopping to the corner, that I bend Why a motherf**er, wanna hate on me man Cause they can't get off they a**, and stack change Down on Southside, we don't play no games We pop trunks on the corners, in the turning lane Just realize, and stop fighting the pencil Because I pimp a pen, or a pencil Its about time, that your a** gon recognize Guerilla Maab, is some cold individuals [Hook:] This is my story G, day one on Southside Southside 'til I diiii-iiie On the road, to reach in the TV and BET And I owe it, to the Southside Southside 'til I diiii-iiie [Will-Lean:] n***az can't hold me back I hold the gat, thought of many ways done told you that Talking about golden plack, diamonds in your face done showed you that I roll the Lac I stroll the Benz, get the weed I'll po' the end I'ma ball 'til I fall, f** waiting 'til I score again We big shots with big glocks, on top I play it cool On my block where I lay my rules,&nb sp;on your block where I spray with tools Slay them fools with my steel, let them know this sh**'s for real Botany Boys/Guerilla Maab, a k**er squad making mills [H.A.W.K.:] f** what you feel time to pop a seal, only when we grad, it's major deal On the Texas reel trying to make a mill, serious bout that dollar bill House on the hill yacht on the lake, can't get close to my estate Like Ice Cube push rhymes like weight, haters we anialate Don't violate or try to hate, licks been heard in the Texas state I just can't wait to set thangs straight, Texas is the rap state Let's conjugate hop in the Benz, Guerilla Maab and Dead End On that chase for benjamins, in this sh** we play to win [Hook] [Z-Ro:] Pulling out my yard as I drop the top, ready for the jackers I'm gon co*k the glock Pulling up at the club everybody show love, might slow my pace but never stop for bops Cause when a n***a didn't have weed to smoke, seem like them hoes had a need to choke So I bled the block and I bled the block, exactly what I need for the seeds to grow Now I'm living myself Z-Ro today, even though I had road blocks in my way I made it over the hill I guess that was the will, of that man for me to get outta the game I sold weed and crack on down to h**ne, sporting clothes on motherf**ers payroll Many golds and the movies, Guccis Fa**aci's Guess and Donna Karen I smoke and I lean but still I maintain, ain't a damn thang changed I'm still the same Breaking motherf**ers off with a sock by mouth, represent the South about fancy thangs My pen is thoed and my pen is raw, 24/7 I'm gon break the law At the end of a show I'ma take a bow, my knees wanna be me speed rolling be how I flip my tongue fast like that, rubbing up on tracks and wrecking 8 Dats And the Real-To-Real's and a Lex Sedan Deville, with a separate b**h on t he grill I bleed the block now with the rocks, I bleed with the candy paint Sipping promethazyne codeine, with a Jolly Rancher with a hand on drank And I got my mind focused on benjamins, dividends in the back of a big Benz 22 years old with a Fat Pat roll, from a tight a** verse and I'm in the wind [talking:] Check it out, Southside Story baby Z-Ro, Dougie D, Trae, Willean, Big H.A.W.K. [Hook x2]