[Hook] Oh no, there go them Texas boys banging in a fo' do' Top fell out the drop, crawling on 84's Think of taking my slab, baby I don't think so My heat under my seat, and I don't love you hoes Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low Five percent or ten, but still my screens gon glow These haters be in my mix, and these boppers be on my dick Everytime I come round the corner [Paul Wall] I'm from the land of opportunity, in God we trust But haters in my mix, got me paranoid and disgust I'm scoping out my side mirrors, when my car's in park It's after dark, and my slab is fresh meat to these sharks Boys thinking I been drinking, so I'm off my note But I got seventeen surprises, tucked inside of my coat See me strut through the parking lot, on 22's plus It's a must I make all haters, eat my dust Them jump-out boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping I ain't tripping, grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping Boys jacking with these tow trucks, thinking they slick But take a trip to South Lee, and end up in a ditch They got my purple people eater once, the next day I bought a Range Rover cash, and a new set of fronts I've been on feet for months, I'm taking haters to lunch Paul Wall and Trae, hit em with that one-two punch [Chorus]