(feat. Screwed Up Click)



[Big Steve-R.I.P]

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Me and my partners recline, we put it down

Roll, ball, but not out of control, sit swolle

A hustler out that Boss Ness Click

Crestmont to King, Grandpappy be the lick

See these haters kinda fear and they knowin

Big ol diamond rings keep the whole damn stage glowin

And I keep pourin, eighth of drank in the soda

I'm the mothership floater and precise rhyme quoter

And it's over, cause me and that Poke, we done told ya

Mobbin just like a soldier in a big ol Range Rover

Hum-V even wanted me, Big Steve

Track records gon show I'm a run the industry

With a trick up my sleeve, blow the best of weed

And a million dollar stack is what the fuck a nigga need



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



[Big Steve]

Eleven in the mornin, I jumped up in my foreign

Popped up, cocked up, and my trunk was yawnin

Showin high in my ride, wide body finesser

Grippin grain down Gessner bout to bust a compressor

Tvs, VCs, that's the way it go down

Screens falllin, big ballin sittin low to the ground

See we floss like true, keep the weed and juice

Paul Chevy sittin heavy in a two-door coupe

Mash four, top to roll, Bun B, with a long haired freak

Marquises in the piece, turn the heat up

Cause niggas be jacked, they some cheaters

Take the form of block bleeders 

Drippin paint off the feeder streets

Sweepers in Tex, big Benz and the Lex

Five pointers in my ear, fifteen on my neck

Big face on the check, Navigators and Rovers

Twenty inches to the floor, with my V-12 motor



Now, who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround 

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround



[Big E]

Who dat be, talkin down from my blind side

Crystal grain when I slide in my big ol G ride

Naked hide gots to be shown by Big E

Haters worried bout a G, but they still can't see me

And Paul and P, bout to swoop in the coupe

We for real about the loot, watch the glock nine shoot

In the hoop, tinted up mafia style

Loose lips sank ships, so won't you close em a while

Ghetto child from the Southside be wreckin

Put my time in the kitchen, now them boys respectin

Still jettin off in that silver bullet

Capers I'm a pull and keep you niggas gal lookim

It's on I be cookin pie, rest is shook and

Had to plot and plan, now the money's been tookin

Givin the industry a raw naked ass whoopin

Can't see us baby, cause all the shows we be bookin



[repeat chorus in background]

That's for all you ho-ass niggas out there talkin down on real muthafuckin 

playas...We rollin muthafuckin Range Rovers, Coupes...Silver Bullets, 

bitch...On Twenties...Wide bodies...You hoes better stop trippin...Roll wit 

us, or get your muthafuckin ass rolled over...Chevis Entertainment for 

life...You know who we talkin to, Bitch



Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surround

Who dat mad, who dat talkin down

Mad cause them ballers from the South showin pop surroun