Trae Tha Truth - Who Could it Be lyrics

[Hook - 2x] Who could it be (who could it be) But that M double A-B (but that M double A-B) And we're sho nuff gon shine (and we're sho nuff gon shine) Making everybody lose their mind (everybody losing they mind) [Trae] The same n***as on the block, wrecking it won't stop We bout to head to the top, co*ked dropping the top With Glocks ready to box, somebody bout to get dropped f** around with the Maab, you fin to get shined out Do you really, wanna f** around wit us Come out of the trunk, with a AK with us Better watch out for brains, you got a one hitter quitter n***a we the Southside, H-Town mob figgas Raw n***as, on the block affiliated with drug dealers Go getters, and a hundred percent thug n***as You don't wanna step to us, you getting hugged n***a On the microphone with flow, you get drugged n***a You better get somewhere, you can't block the shine I'm ready for any n***a, that wanna get out of line I'll tell you one mo' time, you better respect my mind When a red light shine, go and lay it down Who the n***as that wanna talk down Who the b**h that wanna hate, I'm fin to sweat up they face Me and Doug and Ro, up on a paper chase Trying to get it like a fiend, with a top case In the race we done did that, candy blue In the lap, wearing a black hat f** that Somebody fin to get done, till everybody be gon And n***a, we number one [Hook - 2x] [Dougie D] I'ma give it to you live, I'ma give it to you raw I ain't even fin to play, with you motherf**ers I'm a motherf**er, that'll be packing a Glock Taking em out with red dots, I'm a head busta I'ma Maab out I'ma ride out, no doubt Making motherf**ers slide out, need to hide out f** around with the wrong n***a, pull the nine out Leave a motherf**er crispy, burned and fried out Does the Dougie give it out, mmm-hmm Like a n***a be smoking up on, good green fur f**ing em up in the first round, yes sir I'm just so cold, I make a n***a say burr Gripping a round, me and my dogs get bucked With the Lil' Cl'Che, still ready to get crunk We M double A-B, now little b**h what On a treaty the microphone, we ain't no punk Dougie D so thoed, and they already know The Trae and the J Z-Ro, the By-Bo Got a kin folk raw, that be gripping a gun I got a king folk right, that be dropping a bomb I got a click of motherf**ers, putting words on the run And when you thought it was over, n***a it just begun And when you hear this sh**, n***a don't you bump When you feel you ready, n***a then come get some [Hook - 2x] [Cl'Che] Got em all asking, who could it be That Guerilla M double A-B, and C-L-C-H-E The cla**ified lady, sho nuff Watch me shine up on the scene, make em all say their so thoed Sitting back on these hoes, that's trying to out do my flows And all I wanna do is get the key, and open the do' For my Southeastern pros, f** it let's show em that we could Swang the 4's, I'm on a mission steady trying to get the cream Maab deep, with the KMJ k**a team Doing things, making mo' money than you ever seen While you watching me, on your big screen BET or MTV, posters hanging at your local grocery Now everybody know me, Cl'Che make you lose your mind Everytime you jam a Maab c.d., the Cla**ified's on your mind Southside I bring it to you live, so please don't underestimate me Or my n***as Trae, Dougie D and Z-Ro sing the hook for me [Hook - 2x] [Z-Ro] Who could it be, blowing on doja Consuming codeine, cause I'm just a soldier That stays on his grind, chasing that feddy These fellas they ain't ready, they lightweight and I'm heavy The Mo City Don, king of the ghetto I keep dropping bombs, cause I just can't let go I'm thoed in the game, hydro or that do-do Catch Z-Ro in slow-mo, Z-Ro not no hoe thogh I swang and I swerve, like Tony Montana My balls are my word, come down your chimney like Santa And put you to bed, for talking down on a O.G Really though y'all don't know me, I will make you die slowly [Hook - 3x]