Songtext:
feat. Tum Tum, Paul Wall, Magnificent Klebefolie reflektierend [Mike Jones] It's Mike Jones, back on the track I pack a gat, when I'm in the 'lac I wreck a track, title wack To make sho' my paper stack If I don't grind, then I don't shine If I don't shine, I get left behind I hit the block, stack a knot And shake the spot for one time I keep my business on the lo-lo 'Cause haters snitch and tell the po-po I ride solo in my 4-do Caren colored coated Volvo I wreck the mic everywhere I go My name heard everywhere I go You tryed to deny but I know you know You tryed to deny but I know you know If you wanna get me for a show Or get me to feature on a flow Hit 281-330-8004 If you wanna get me for a show Or get me to feature on a flow Hit 281-330-8004
[Tum-Tum] Swang the Pacific in the DSR boat I flip a lil, see these stacks and c-notes So I'm puttin' diamonds all in ya face Put on ya shades, VVS's gone glare in ya face I rock the mic but I wasn't on tools I eat at places where they call me Mizzu Sit at the table can't read the menu Stop the beat, look out the window, watch the rims continue Tony Montana style, with a slit in my brows See big rocks on the watch, five thou bling-bloaw Call me Tum-T, I'm big homie with the rocks Look at the ear, look at the grill, look at the necks, look at the watch Tum-T, hood boss, O.G. out the 3 You would think I was Ashanti how the screens Rain On Me Yeah!, Still Magnificent on the Mike like I was Jones You lookin' at royalty bitch, go and direct me to the throne
[Paul Wall] When you see me on the block, I'm on my grind (I'm on my grind) And when I'm ducked off in the trap it's hustle time (It's hustle time) I'm bout my paper, bout my cash, I'm bout that green (Bout that green) I never roll, I'ma soldier, I'll take one for the team Paul Wall, Swishahouse, Swishablast bout cash Gotta get up off my ass, cause time fly's fast Opportunities past but I'm still the same ol' G (Same ol' G) Reebok's and white-t's, I'm still the same ol' me (Same ol' me) When you see me at the club, I'm at the bar (I'm at the bar) And if a gal all in my mix then she a star (She a star) Pretty face, slim waste, with a coca-cola shape but she don't want me, she just boppin' off my car (Off my car) I'ma player, I'ma hustler, I'ma mac (I'ma mac) Candy paint, swangas on the cadillac (The cadillac) Paint drippin' kinda damp, Paul Wall the people's champ I wonder what them haters think about that ('Bout that)
[Magnificent] I'ma hood doctor, hit foot locker and grab jerseys Bust a flow and make hoe's say "Have Mercy" Like uncle jessie, my trunk is messy From throwin' haters in it, I'm in a Navigator tinted My rims spinnin', when I stop they do the wiggle-wiggle Whip is little, candy paint look like little skittles I'm in Dallas on that 635 I get brain from 6:30 til 6:35 Make them hoes go-live New 4's buck-high Make them hoes hop inside, and expose those thighs After I nut it's like fuck them boppers Pull-up, new Maybach truck on choppers Glad that I made it, it's never been fun of the struggle 'Cause these chips on my shoulders ain't Funyons or Ruffles Nigga, it's Magno, Mike Jones, Tum-T, Fat B Fuck it man Perfect Team Part 3 Nigga
