Artist: Lil' Flip & Z-Ro f/ Will-Lean, Point Blank, B.G. Duke Album: Kings of the South Song: Fuck Dat Nigga Typed by: Lil Hustle (*talking*) Oh yeah, all the fucked niggaz gotta get the fuck out the way Know what time it is nigga, Screwed Up Click [Hook] Man fuck that nigga, (fuck that nigga) Keep running your mouth, I'ma touch that nigga Man fuck that nigga, (fuck that nigga) You ain't heard about my state, we Screwed Up nigga Will-Lean you riding, (yeah I'm riding) B.G. Duke you riding, (yeah I'm riding) Z-Ro you riding, (yeah I'm riding) Point Blank you riding, (hell yeah I'm riding) [Will-Lean] Motherfuck you I'll rush you, bitch I don't trust you Like AT&T, my guillotines reach out and touch ya Bust ya like a head off your shoulders, then dust ya Pluck my desert eagle to the bone, then crush ya See I'm a hustler, just look at my wrist All yellow canary diamonds, looking like piss Yo Flip, these boys acting sour I got money and respect, plus I'm packing power Stacking up dollars, niggaz wanna fuck with me If it's hood it's all good, so tuck your heat Even though I'm on parole, I still clutch my heat Pick up the street sweeper, to sweep up the street [B.G. Duke] I got my serve, that ain't your mama Smack you with the pistol and tell ya, I ain't your mama I'm ready for drama, I sleep with the fo' pound It ain't shit, to send my free lancers to your town Ladies, we just ain't talking bout you Cause some of these niggaz, is bitches too And you know who, no need to say no name I'ma gas these niggaz up, like a tank of propane They say we ain't strapped, they lied to ya They say Flip ain't from Cloverland, they lied to ya We got the mansion three kitchen, ain't lying brah Mayback reclining seats, 'case we get tired brah [Hook] [Z-Ro] Everytime I open my mouth, I'ma see talking shit Fuck a rap nigga I slap niggaz, it's best you keep on walking bitch I represent the Southside, of Screwston Texas Got my name spinning in yellow diamonds, right up under my Rap-A-Lot necklace But fuck some shine brah, I'll loosen your tooth Better get wet ya with my tech weapon, and swoop in the coupe Cause I'm a gangsta my nigga, coming from the left side Equipped with a pistol grip, that will open your chest wide I'm the King of the Ghetto, I gave myself that name Ain't nobody help me get rich, I made myself that change Talking bout charging me twenty thousand dollars, to spit a verse Bitch I'm a legend read about me, fuck it come and see about me Right now I'm barring eleven niggaz, and seven record labels You can jump your narrow ass in line, and straight up get strangled Z-Ro the Crooked, the gangsta of the Screwed Up Click Fuck all that ear boxing, go 'head and lace ya shoes up bitch [Hook] [Point Blank] Watch your mouth now, cause what you say can bring death One day you gon say some shit, a nigga can't accept Point Blank the Bull, a big chip off the old block It ain't gotta be in Cloverland, to be a Clover Gee block Boy we run this shit, Flip having fun with this shit And you tripping, Blank how the fuck you get a gun in this bitch When I see him ninety-nice, Southside gon be iight I know I might do some time, just shoot me a kite I write straight from the heart, so I shoot straight for the heart If Flip said fuck T.I., then it's fuck that mark Southsi' for li', till I flatline trick Talk a lot of shit, but I can back mine bitch what's up [Hook] [Lil' Flip] Oh no, that nigga ain't scaring me Look I don't wanna hear about, your ass weighing ki's This lil' nigga ain't a threat, you a peon nigga Cause in my hood, I play the corner like Deon nigga Them niggaz only fucking with you, cause you pay em for beats And I saw that bullshit, grill you got on your teeth My grill cost thirty G's, my ice cost fifteen Say you gained a lil' weight, if you drank some lean Hey, I got beef with a nigga that weigh eighty pounds He wear my bracelet in the pool, that nigga'd probably drown Big Oomp got my back, Pastor Troy got my back And you know, Ludacris got my fucking back Asking bout my whole team, he know I roll with G's So why should I fear a man, that bleed like me Down in Texas, we ain't feeling you kid As far as record sales go, I'm killing you bitch [Hook] (*talking*) Nigga, now how you gon try to charge Z-Ro Twenty grand, for a mo'fucking verse Nigga, that shit ain't worth a god damn wing dinner bitch