feat. 8 Ball, T.I. [Verse One: T.I.] Call me Rubber Band Man, get as high as I can Tote a hundred grand in my case Anotha five in my pants In dat new LI sedan, bout da size of a van 155 on 85, I be flyin my man And ain't no catchin T.I.P. silly But you can try if ya can Get ya ass laid out, right beside ya man Sprayed out da clip, left ya wit ya face in da sand Sent da DA on a cruise, den do a day in da can Two in da hand I'm jukin, I'm too cool ta dance I got a bad bitch in Paris, I cut a fool in France Cool as a fan, betta ask some body who da man Shut da bout down, clown when I choose to man I'm da Bankhead ambassador, Atlanta my land Whether I'm rappin, actin, or trappin, haddlin grands I give a gotdamn, not nan niggaz advance On da crown, to get anything less da laid down I stay down [Chorus][2X]T.I. & [Lil Jon] We ain't playin dat shit [GET YA WEIGHT UP] And we dont play dat shit [GET YA WEIGHT UP] Nigga fuck dat shit [GET YA WEIGHT UP] Well nigga buck den shit [GET YA WEIGHT UP] [Verse 2: 8Ball] I see you lookin at me, wit yo lookin ass You wanna light it up, you betta pull it fast I'm not ya homeboy, I'm not ya kinfolk I got my own drink. I got my own dough I got my own slab, wit Michael Jordans on it If you don't kno da lingo, den 23's hommie You wanna ride on em, you gotta hustlin baby Some niggaz dying fo em, out here actin crazy I saw dem niggaz buckin, at da club spennin Buyin hoes drinks, gettin at all da bithes Dey got dey bling on, chains and rings on Dey will stunt until da dj play da wrong song Now dey on da flo, head split in two All dey ice gone, and all dey bitches too Dats why we roll deep, dat's why we hold heat Dat's why we own streets. Fuck up and you will see.. [Chorus] [Verse 3: Lil' Jon] Pussy nigga, wut's up, gotdamn dat shit All dat yappin at da mouth 'll getcha fucked up quick I'ma ATL nigga, and BME's da clique Crunk Juice in my glass, always givin me lip I hit dese hoes like boes wit dis platinum dick My magnum always stay locked, cocked, ready ta hit I give a gotdamn nigga who we rollin wit Get ya weight up hoe, den approach me bitch [Verse 4: 8Ball] Get ya weight up nigga, get ya weight up bitch I went from hustlin on da corner, to hustlin legit From ridin 84's ta new school 4-doors From smokin on dat Reggie to smokin on dat Dro No mo 18's, niggaz ride 24's On anything new, ta old school 4-doors You might be ridin nigga, but dat ain't shit If you ain't got no feet, be da candy bitch [Chorus]
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