(feat. B.G., Soulja Slim, Stat Quo) [Chamillionaire] Trill is the answer You thought you knew it, you blew it, that's why they drew it The pistol, soon as it hit you, you wished you did never do it Bang 'til your brain did spew it, Houston is full of sewage It's true, it ain't nothing to it, they'll do it, act like you knew it See I ain't really gotta prove it, look around and it show Cause most of these niggas we used to know ain't even around here no mo' But don't drown in your flow, cause it's deep, I look around and hell no This is ain't Cleveland, it don't be freezing but boys around here with snow And they finding my hoe, and they think she on the side when she with him She riding and flipping in your car, you seen that wire that's sticking? Out her bra, federal car right behind him is picking his ass up But damn bro, they done found them a victim Walk with me through that spaceship city, where that 9 is that law Channel 13 preview that scene, who did the crime to that boy? Walk in on that red carpet, ain't the kind that the stars be walking on Chalk is shown, outline what they draw, damn [Hook - X2] It's real on these streets Niggas be toting heat on these streets Putting busters to sleep on these streets Playing for keeps in these keeps All to eat off these streets Your momma weep, cause now you lay dead in these streets [B.G.] Where I'm from we play it raw, we cutthroat and bout our bidness Some call it New Orleans but I nicknamed it Chopper City It's the home of the Hornets, and the home of the Saints But don't get that name twisted, we'll toss you off in a lake If you want work, we'll tell you we got weight Tax him 22 for a burner, flower or cake Nigga ride fly, in Benzes on 22's Double back, drop 26's under the H2 I'm a fool wit it, hoes be like I want him Fresh dickie shirt over my tee with some bo's and tim's I'm a Hot Boy, if you ain't know, ask somebody On Valence and Magnolia I'm like the Don John Gotti Don't try me or you'll end up a nobody On a front of a tee with your people second line And it's like that, I ain't the one to size up Cause if you do me that, then I'ma have to fire up [Hook - X2] [Stat Quo] Track bang, track bang, pimp hoe like good game A goddamn shame, that boy there got good aim Across the globe he got pulled like hair strains Stat Quo the beast, Big Bread my nickname Trunk pop at the show, my verse is spiritual Test me and your condition will end up critical Started from the A, why he spit so lyrical? I write for the hood, he a South Coast miracle For the strippers, hustlers and common criminals 9 to 5 workers, lieutenants and generals Correlation to struggle, the grind will injure you It takes more than crutches to make it through I'm telling you [Hook - X2] [Soulja Slim] What you're hearing is Uptown, is y'all familiar with that sound? A hundred rounds will gun you down, put your bitch ass underground Now what I want you to know, see I'm a general Is there Heaven or Hell? Tell me where the killers go My pill busting slow, fill up the dro I'm bout to tell 'em what they need to know Don't fuck with us, we creeping low He out that 13th, he out that 17th I'm out that motherfucking 3-9, who want beef? I'll be damned if grown killers stay humble I could get ya killed without upping the bundle Magnolia, that's my project, never called it a jungle Keep a spot on the block and a key of dope to fumble When I'm down south hustling, get paid in many ways If your lick over a hundred G's, I'm coming to bust yo head I say fuck the Feds and I'll say it again From the streets to the pen, I play the game to win [Hook - X2]