Talkin Texas - Slim Thug

I’m from Texas, nigga where we Cadillac pushin'

Bitches blowing up my phone, but I’m in the kitchen cooking up the work

Still got bricks for the dirt

I be on my grind, gettin' mine, haters hearts hurt

Cause a nigga stay shinin', pullin' up in some foreign

Steppin' out clean to the grand Ralph Lauren

Bitches on my dick cause my paper stacks tall

And they see me everday in the galeria mall

Bitch I’m 6'6 tall like I play basketball

But I’m still ballin', Slim Thugga never fall

15 years later paper still gettin' longer

And a nigga freestyle game gettin' stronger

Used to on the corner

Now I’m sellin' this to fiends

Breakin' boys off, on swangs lookin' clean

And they looking thick, I’m talkin' all the menage

Got a pitch in my penthouse give them massage

Bentley in my garage, bitch I been ballin'

I ain’t never stopped and hell yeah the ho’s callin'

Stay blowin' up my phone, tryna get some paper

Garage full of cars, stay shitin' on my neighbours

When I’m pullin' out clean

Sippin' on lean

It’s that boy Thugga and I’m shuttin' down the scene

Got a pocket full of green and a phone full of ho’s

I be hittin' Pappadeaux, lobster on my plate oh

A nigga like me eatin' real good and I came from the hood

Been the boss, mane and the shit is understood

Still grippin' on wood in the foreign

Bitches ain’t trippin', oh no haters I ain’t boring

Roll with the strap, got the judge sittin' close

If a nigga fuck with me he gon' get burnt like toast

Cause I’m a real G and ain’t playing games

And everybody in the streets know my motherfucking name

I putted in my work, I putted in my time

So now a G like me sittin' back to shine

Lookin' off top floors, still close candy do’s

Thugga never trippin', you hoes know how it goes

Gotta get the paper, Gotta get the green

I ain’t stickin' my dick in none of you hoes give me the green

You bitches better brang it, Thugga stay swangin'

Hit the boulevard came through game changin'

Still gaining fame and I’m still gainin' bucks

And you bops mad at me cause I don’t give a fuck

Them niggas is some simps

Bitch, we some pimps

Walking in the 5th with a motherfucking limp

Poppin' up golden bottles

Section full of models

Yeah a boss like me smash Ferrari throttles

Smash Ferrari throttles, going real fast

Mashin' 6−10 200 on the dash

All about the cash, hell yeah I’m gettin' paper

And I don’t give a fuck about no motherfucking hater

R.I.P.

Pimp C niggas like me keep it trill

And even when them other niggas fake, I keep it real

Ain’t got no deal, I ain’t got shit for me

Still gettin' paper, you ain’t know I’m a boss

See Imma buy more paper, Imma buy more money

Broke niggas better look at a nigga funny

Yeah I got them looking sick

I took them niggas chicks

And now they all mad cause they bitches on my dick

BHO click and them niggas still rich

Told you 15 years ago, Imma keep makin' hits

Shot out to that J-Dawg, shot out to the Killa

Shot out Young Black I’m talking all my gorillas

C-Ward served daily, all my dawgs from the camp

And we still shinin' like some motherfucking limps

Ain’t loving no tramp, bitch I dick 'em down and deuce 'em

I ain’t even trippin', hit the boulevard and lose 'em

Cruisin' real slow while I sip on the cruiser

You niggas talking down, but you niggas is some losers

Bitch I’m a winner, shinin' since the beginning

It’s that boy Thug Boss I’m still getting