(*talking*) Yeah-yeah, C. Ward baby, uh C-Wigga one baby, uh yeah-yeah C. Weezie baby (Ghetto Dreams, Screwed Up Click) [Chris Ward] I got so many flows, they build up like bacteria So many O's, I call it crack-teria I got 'em in you, like Luda's cafeteria Place your order my n***a, I'm that serious Yeah, I got the goodies on the block Out of all these so called gangstas, I'm the hoodest from the block And I'm the goodest with a Glock, especially a 4-0 I knock the man off of the horse, off of the Polo These n***as is so, so gay They nothing like us no, no way Hey I ain't come here to play, I come to collect pay Say what I say, and be on my way Now if you feeling real fly, let your hands touch the sky And keep 'em high (keep 'em high), keep 'em high (keep 'em high) Now if you feeling real fly, let your hands touch the sky And keep 'em high (keep 'em high), keep 'em high (keep 'em high) See can't nobody do it, like I just did Pulled up in a Coupe, and make the whole backside slid Drop that top, left the f**er hid Then what, peeled it back like a lid On a can opener Do the top like a can opener, once the can open up Yeah I'm dope, and I'm up like a can of Opium, I'm scoping em Ooooh, you see this badge on my chest Ooooh, that's why you looking sad and depressed Noooo, you just mad we the best And the bling's worth more, than your Jag or your Lex That's if, you ever had one I'm bout to cop some'ing new and stupid, think I'm bout to go and get a Magnum (no you're not), the yellow and the green one f** it I'ma do the plain, platinum over black one n***a Keep 'em high, keep 'em high Now if you feeling real fly, let your hands touch the sky And keep 'em high, keep 'em high (*talking*) Yeah-yeah, C-Wiggity-Whoadi-Weezie-Ward Ha-ha-ha, some'ing to bang and bump that's how we do it n***a (S.U.C. in a store near you, 2005, summer n***a this our summer)