[Hook]
We gon make, you niggas feel this
Put your hands in the air, and pump your fists
Make you tear the club up everytime, we spit
So listen to this real shit
[H.A.W.K.]
I'ma make 'em feel it, like you feel the holy spirit
When you hear it you fear it, and your mind can't clear it
You hear it, now bob your head
You heard what I said, get wild like a bull seeing red
Why you acting like you scared, throw your hands in the air
And shake your derriere, for this Southside playa
Beware, of the lyric content
Cause shit is my scent, and it's highly evident
These cats got me bent, they must be crazy
I rock like Jay-Z, and these labels they pay me
You lazy, and out of your belligerent mind
To think your cash flow, is equivalent to mine
I done waste time, on wine and dine
I spit rhymes and grind, and meet my deadline
I'm smart like Einstein, the savior of mankind
I flow like enzymes, and I'll blow your mind
[Hook]
We gon make, you niggas feel this
Put your hands in the air, and pump your fists
Make you tear the club up everytime, we spit
Cause we gon make you feel this
We gon make, you niggas feel this
Put your hands in the air, and pump your fists
Make you tear the club up everytime, we spit
So listen to this real shit
[Trae]
Ain't no fucking with us, take it out cock it we bust
Deep down in Texas we tough, tear the club up niggas we rough
You don't wanna plex with us, raw and untamed better ride with a AK
Keep a bitch nigga saying mayday, and I will spray for the pay day
In the worst way like a Maab nigga, for the eight nigga I'ma split a nigga
Like a throwed verse, lyrically leaving a nigga in a hearse
I'm a thug and a renogator, and a Southside hood waver
A 84 block skater, and a bad ass bitch invader
We so thoed but solo, united for cash
When I'm in my fo'-do' my trunk glow, with S.U.C. on my dash
At a club we roam knocks, in the hood we bleed blocks
In a car we ride drops, on cock with a missing top
Lil' Trae Guerilla Maab, with H-A-W-K
From red to blue or grey, my niggas we don't play
From shining to throwing bows, we platinum on down to gold
And living out of control, to keep it crunk fa sho
[Hook]
[H.A.W.K.]
Abra-cadabra, hocus pocus
Sit back and feel, this explosive dose
A lyrical hypnosis, is what I put you in
And time and time again, I do damage with a pen
A lyrical time bomb, and I'm bound to get you sprung
And if you ain't feeling this, then your body is numb
Like Nelly I'm number one, or numero uno
The size of a sumo, more vicious than Kujo
More styles than judo, and I got room to throw
I'm thugging like Fat Joe, and I'm watching my thoed grow
I move in slow-mo, and blowing on do-do
On 20's and squatted low, and on locks I tip-toe
And for my lil bro, I'ma mash the gas
Collect the cash, and move the Benz up another class
The greatest like Ali, on the grind like Bun-B
And the words that I use, make you say golly
[Hook]
