Baby Bash

Baby Bash - Don't Mess With Texas lyrics

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(feat. Lucky Luciano, Shyykidd, South Park Mexican)





[Happy Perez]

[scratching]

"Lone Star ranger"

"Lone Star ranger"

"Lone Star ranger" ("Sit-sittin' on swanger")

"Lone Star ranger"

"Lone Star ranger"

"Lone Star ranger" ("Sit-sittin' on swanger") -- [Lucky Luciano]



[Chorus: Shyykidd]

Don't mess with Texas, oh no

We just so damn, what, so cold

Competition

You could really want it

When you backing down, look what we have accomplished

Don't mess with Texas, oh no

We just so damn, what, so cold

Got the big bangers

Cause the last swangers

Paint drippin', boy, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout



[Verse 1: Lucky Luciano {Lucky Luciano slowed down}]

Ay, Lucky Lu', gon' come through, and do this here for Screw zoo

I'm a Texas boy, eating barbecue, and sippin' on red Mountain Dew

{Lone Star ranger, sittin' on swanger}

One in the chamber, ready for the danger

Five cliffhangers, I'm a show 'em how to tip toe

Here to wreck a set, bang, when I drop my fifth O

H-Town, San Anton', ATX, Fort Worth

Dallas to the valley, man, it's all about the work

What you know about the great state of Texas

Rocks in a necklace, leave a {bitch} breathless

Home of the players and the styrofoam cups

Woodgrain wheel and I'm ridin' on bucks

Paint look slippery, drank not Hennessey

Brand new Bentley, same ol' triple beam

Uh

And I'm Draped Up and dripped out

Eighty-four spiderwebs, got your boy tipped out



[Repeat Chorus]



[Verse 2: South Park Mexican]

I got chicks like Pamela, from H to Canada

The only game I ever played good was Gallahger

Cold like Alas-a-ka, flip 'em like spatula

People be trying to bite my flows like Dracula's

Spectacular, my rappin' doesn't seem to have a replica

Angel, I saw a dude go from Jesse to Jessica

Dope fiend blessed, I'm a money making maniac

Born in the gutter like a little cute baby rat

My lady's tat got SPM in faded black

People say you look like Carlos Coy, but, ain't he fat

Just like a janie sack, I'm been gettin' Slim Fast

Prison life turn my cell block into a gym class

Pull-ups off my top bunk, bench press my mattress

Curlin' pillow cases full of books and a atlas

Can you understand this or has a G lost touch

Walkin' in my con chucks, livin' out long months



[Repeat Chorus]



[Verse 3: Baby Bash]

It's that Dope House Records, jammin' out of Texas

Mayne, I'm so powerful with quick reflexes

With the SP Mex's, South Park on hollow

Happy P., got the beats on steroids like (??)

If I'm Italian, I'm a Capo, yeah, fully made

Retire from the game, and still get fully paid

Yeah

It's the Dope House prophet

Thirty-five and forty-five in the state, keep it poppin'

Boy, what you slangin'

Boy, what you slangin'

Ridin' big body, playboy, what you sangin'

Smashing down ten with a farm in my woodgrain

Hit San Anton', and you know it's all good, mayne



[Repeat Chorus]
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Language: English

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