UGK (Underground Kingz)

UGK (Underground Kingz) - Short Texas lyrics

Your rating:












Ay yo, welcome to the world of S-H-O-R-T

Texas where them trill ass niggas be livin naughty

Rollin' up ho's like turtles in half a shell

Open up my trunk and let's see what I have to sell

I got the dope, if you ho's got the paper

And if you a faker then you'll meet your fuckin maker

Cause I ain't takin no shit on my guts

The UGK posse got the big big nuts

Yo, so who's a bold bitch?

Try to make a sale, You betta bail before they find you in a ditch

This dope ain't yo dope and these cuts and yo cuts

Yo, but this is my 12 Gauge in your muthafuckin guts

Don't make me pump this bitch and unload

Beat your feet muthafucka, hit the muthafuckin road

And don't even try to come back nigga yo

Cause me Dre and C got fingers on a fat trigger

We making too much money moving weight

And before you hit my cuts, you better get your shit straight

Cause it ain't safe to just try and show your ass up

Street sweeper booming cold blow your ass up

And ain't nobody scared to blast

We pull them triggers fast

And then we bailing on your bitch ass

But if your shit is legit, then you can join my crew

U.S.T. graduating class of '92 in Short Texas









Niggas on the track dropping shit about T-X

As long as there's fiends that's them tax free dope checks

Young muthafuckas at the age of 16

Cooking up some yayo for the local drug king

The market's not open so they call it closed circuit

Short Short Texas watch them hard thugs work it

5-0's on the scene make the all time drug bust

Out next week slangin some more white dust

Real, oh so trill, the life's no glamour

At the end of my time is spent in the slammer

Fuckin up shit with the 9 inch chrome

So all you scary got-it-good young-ass bitches stay home

And if you get picked up by the laws

Don't cry cause it's for a lost cause

Clientele, ounce of yayo, in jail make bail

From longs to short, it's constant dope sales

Stupid muthafuckas smoking dummies and noids in jail

On U.S.T., Crack University

Home of the Fightin Fiends, the streets reimburse me

Cops finding my stash, yo what could the worst be

Through so going undercover then turnin dirty

Bitch, I'm dead and swole in a ditch

Just the other day, a fiend in your Lexus

Calling my name Blue Light, I'm Short Texas









I don't give a fuck who you be!

You ain't bout to sell no fuckin dope in P.A.T.

You could be Tony Montana in this bitch

Have a boat load of dope, but you still ain't selling shit

Cause we don't know your face so I don't really figure

We gon let you come up and sell dope in Texas nigga

See you don't understand, it's our muthafuckin cuts

So step in, like I said before, we'll take them muthafuckin nuts

Ask the last nigga brought his fuckin ass down

Trying to sell that fuckin dope he bought in H-Town

Couldn't sell in Houston, so I guess he figured

I'mma go to Port Arthur and run them fuckin niggas

Brought his fuckin gun, guess he should've bust

So they took his shit and put his dick in the dust

Stupid ass nigga had the nerve to come back

Rolling on the cuts in his white Cadillac

Got to the block and the guns just exploded

Shot his car up with the 9, and the clip that he unloaded

Sent the nigga home to his momma like a ho

They jacked all his money and they stole all his dope

Can't be trill in the villa of the trillest

Cause where I'm from nigga house some muthafuckin killers

So have your shit attached, before you come check us

Pimp C, bitch, P.A. home, Short Texas













Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found