Southside Story

Guerilla Maab

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    This is my story G, day one on Southside
    Southside till I diiii-iiie

    (Trae)

    It gotta be Southside all up in your face
    Well I'm creeping and crawling, up out the states
    I made nineteen years and a candidate
    No time to plex, I gotta stack my change
    And working wood on the grain, in the turning lane
    With a 18 thousand dolla, throwed piece and chain
    In the big body Benz, with the raw beam
    Six inch t.v.'s, when I drop the screens
    Drop the top, some fin to hit the fate
    When I'm baller lining, I'm be a bate
    Looking through my shit, watching yellow bones
    And its whether or not, they be creeping my car
    Roll hard on weights, I gotta peep the game
    I'm in a private plane, in a private lane
    With 13 karats, in my pinky ring
    On a pen and pad, I lace up the game
    All on the radio, and on the t.v.
    To the world premier, we on MTV
    Plus so many niggas, really can't see me
    Body rock the states, and pop up on three's
    When I'm swanging 4's, I'm slamming candy do's
    I'm on my P's and Q's, and I love this game
    That's why, everybody wanna knock my hustle
    We done just got rich, and went platinum man

    (Dougie D)

    Thank the Lord for all my success
    Been struggling striving, trying to do my best
    No more canned sardine, just eight cuisines
    It's been a long run, running from the law
    Got a new pair of shoes on feet
    And I owe it to the Southside, cause it's been lovely
    Everybody wanna run with me, and popping trunks all bubbly
    And everybody in the club with me
    Hold up, baby you know the South is so real
    Whit cups and my drank, and blowing on kill
    In the STS, dressed to impress
    With a bow legged round the side, to roll with
    Y'all need to just understand, its so live
    Many dollas into powder stacks, that's right
    When I'm up in the Benz, drop tops in the wind
    Chopping to the corner, then I bend
    Why a motherfucker wanna hate on me man
    Cause they can't get off they ass, and stack change
    Down on Southside, we don't play no games
    We pop trunks on the corners, and the turning lane
    Just realize, and stop fighting the pencil
    Cause I pimp a pen, or a pencil
    It's about time, that your ass gon recognize
    Guerilla Maab is some cold individuals

    (Hook)

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    This is my story G, day one on Southside
    Southside till I diiii-iiie
    On the road, to reach in the T.V. and BET
    And I owe it to the Southside
    Southside till I diiii-iiie

    (Willean)

    Niggas can't hold me back, I hold the gat
    Thought of many ways, then told you that
    Talking about, golden plack
    Diamonds in your face, done showed you that
    I roll the Lac, I stroll the Benz
    Get the weed, I'll po' the end
    I'ma ball till I fall, fuck waiting till I score again
    We big shots with big glocks, on top I play it cool
    On my block, while I lay my rules
    On your block, while I spray with tools
    Slay them fools, with my steel
    Let them know, this shit's for real
    Botany Boyz, Guerilla Maab
    A killa squad, making mills

    (H.A.W.K.)

    Fuck what you feel, time to pop a seal
    Only when we grad, it's a major deal
    On the Texas wheel, trying to make a mill
    Serious, bout that dolla bill
    House on the hill, yacht on the lake
    Can't get close to my estate
    Like Ice Cube, push rhymes like weight
    Haters, we anialate
    Don't violate, or try to hate
    Licks been heard, in the Texas state
    I just can't wait, to set thangs straight
    Texas is the rap state
    Let's conjugate, hop in the Benz
    Guerilla Maab and Dead End
    On that chase for benjamins
    In this shit, we play to win

    (Hook)

    (Z-Ro)

    Pulling out my yard, as I drop the top
    Ready for the jackers, I'm gon cock the glock
    Pulling up at the club, everybody show love
    Might slow my pace, but never stop for bops
    Cause when a nigga didn't have weed to smoke
    Seemed like them hoes, had a need to choke
    So I bled the block, and I bled the block
    Exactly what I need, for the seeds to grow
    Now I'm living myself, Z-Ro today
    Even though I had road blocks in my way
    I made it over the hill, I guess that was the will
    Of that man, for me to get outta the game
    I sold weed and crack, on down to heroine
    Sporting clothes, on motherfuckers payroll
    Many golds and the movies, Guccis
    Fassaci's, Guess and diamonds Karen
    I smoke and I lean, but still I maintain
    Ain't a damn thang changed, I'm still the same
    Breaking motherfuckers off, with a sock by mouth
    Represent the South, about fancy thangs
    My pen is throwed, and my pen is raw
    24/7, I'm gon break the law
    At the end of a show, I'ma take a bow
    My knees wanna be me, speed rolling be how
    I flip my tongue fast like that
    Rubbing up on tracks, and wrecking 8 Dats
    And the Real-To-Real's, and it takes Sedan Deville
    With a separate bitch, on the grill
    I bleed the block, now with the rocks
    I bleed with the candy paint
    Sipping promethazyne, codeine
    With a Jolly Rancher, with a Dandy on drank
    And I got my mind focused on benjamins
    Dividends in the back, of a big Benz
    22 years old, with fat back roll
    From a tight ass verse, and I'm in the wind

    Check it out, Southside Story baby
    Z-Ro, Dougie D, Trae, Willean, Big H.A.W.K.

    (Hook 2x)

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