[Slim Thug]

I spit hits like a jukebox, stay thugged out like 2Pac

Everytime something new drop, it's G shit not hip-hop

I speak for those who rip glocks, and leave these haters lips locked

My underground sell mo' than your, real album ship out

My underground sell mo' than your, real album ship out

My underground sell mo' than your, real album ship out

Slow down or sped up, I'll make you bob your head up

Hustle till you fed up, tell you stack your bread up

Falling off you'll never see, Slim got long jeopardy

Real hits what you get from me, me and Watts like family

And I be damned if we can't do our job, and make you bob

I'm signing c.d.'s for you, your niece and your Uncle Rob

Saying stay down, jam everything we lay down

If I can't drive to your town, I'll send this shit through Greyhound



(*scratching*)

send this shit through Greyhound

send this shit through Greyhound



Got boys from Kansas, hollin' bout how they jam this

From Germany to Japan, they can't understand this

This ain't no local shit, we worldwide bitch

Got Swishahouse and Boss Hogg, in your ride trick

They wanna drop like us, and stack a knot like us

Can't pay they bills with they skills, so they copy us

Some trendsetters, some go-getters

Use to be down but shit, now they bootleggers



(*scratching*)

Now they-now they bootleggers

Now they-now they bootleggers



Hating on my profit, digging in my pocket

And I'ma do what it take, to make sure you stop it

See I got bills to pay, and plenty meals to make

And if you in my way, the AK'll spray

I make a G a day, sometimes three a day

That's times 3-65, now y'all see my pay

That's last year, next year me and E album dropping-aca