[talking:] 

Jiggy check, Boyz N' Blue 

Exclusive shit freestyle, I'm C. Wigga 

Ya know ay, you wanna see my what 

Uh yeah uh say, look out 



[Chris Ward:] 

I ain't got a grill lil' ma, I got some chains 

I got a mill lil' ma, but I got some change 

I'm so fresh, so motherfucking clean 

Make the scene, look like it done goggled some Listerine 

This all the time, everytime with me 

They call me C dot W-A-R-D 

You see I'm some'ing like a playa, some'ing like G 

And I bet some'ing on some'ing, you ain't nothing like me 

I wreck the flow, whenever I feel like 

I go hard, just like I'm a steel pipe 

I bring the pain, bring the game 

I changed the game, I changed the frame 

I pull up in that wide frame, dropping the top 

If I'm not I'm in a old school, hopping the hop 

Making it jump making it drop, making it flip 

Making it flop, making them 84's wop 

Making them vogues hop, up and down the boulevard 

It's that nigga still dranked out, and I'm full of 'Nod 

With PJ, Sir Daily and Slim Thee 

Killa Kyleon, is right behind we 

In the, CTS 

My nigga D-1 behind him, in that new DTS we fresh 



[talking:] 

Like that nigga, Outlaw Season 

We flyer, than a motherfucker 

It's your nigga, Sir Daily baby 



[Sir Daily:] 

Hop in on the flow, and I wreck the beat 

Come through looking good, and I'm on a sweet 

And a cold cup, and you know it's muddy 

Northside Houston Texas, yup them my buddies 

Them my dogs, in them what L-dogs 

Coming through the parking lot, working wood log 

Top drop top tossing, the trunk pop 

Everything looking good, rims don't stop 

Grill looking icy, chain is too 

Coming through the damn lane, leaving it blue 

On them swangs too, maybe 24's 

Got plenty money, got plenty hoes 

Pass em round through the click, let my boys fuck 

I ain't even tripping, plenty noise in my truck 

Got bang got ice grill, ice chain 

Pockets looking swolled, Daily got's to do my thang 

On the flow, I'ma just do the what thang 

I ain't even tripping, might have to move the caine 

In the trap, I'ma break the rap 

Nigga talk shit, I'ma pull a strap 

Click-clack, like my nigga Slim Thugga 

I'ma burn rubber, 24 inch cutters 

Never stutter, I got's to go long 

Break the microphone, my voice going strong 

I ain't tripping, big drank sipping 

Lane to lane switching, I'm grain gripping 

Off the dome, got's to go long 

PJ backdo' me, I'm off the microphone 



[PJ:] 

It's P, to the motherfucking J 

Catch me in the kitchen, and I'm cooking up the yay 

It's that work, it's that boy Purt 

When I pull up in some'ing good, I got's to hurt 

Yes I'm dripping candy, boys don't understand me 

Might ride down Little York, banging Brandy 

Banging some'ing hard, no I don't bar 

It's the PJ, and I'm far from a fraud 

Boss Hogg Outlawz, Boyz N' Blue click 

Got's to come through, in a what type whip 

That's the what car, sipping on bar 

In my what hood, I'm a ghetto superstar 

Hogging shining, diamonds be blinding 

When I'm coming through, yes I keep my hoes minding 

Yes I got hoes, might ride 4's 

Got's to come through, keep the crease in my clothes 

Roc-A-Wear pants, Roc-A-Wear shirt 

Catch me in my hood, and I'm putting in work 

I might sell X, I might sell drank 

Might cash a check, go 'head to the bank 

Cash what the profit, no I can't stop it 

Might hit a switch, hell yeah I'ma drop it 

Drop it on a slab, giving boys dab 

Back in the game, Purt use to call cabs 

Now I'm riding chrome, out the Acres Home 

Hop on the mic, gon get my flow on 

Going off the dome, yes I go long 

It's that PJ, hollin' at that damn whoadie out the Stone 

Them my damn dogs, out the motherfucking click 

Boss Hogg Outlawz, yeah we getting rich 

I ain't playing, no fucking games 

Catch you what talking down, going for your brain 

I'ma what aim, I'ma aim the glock 

Bust me a shot, now your ass out 

Bring the yellow tape, the track got raped 

It's the PJ, I know these boys gon hate 

I know they talking down, but I'ma what shine 

I'ma come through, get the shit up off my mind 

Stack my feddy, yes I'm ready 

I ain't even tripping, on the flow I'm deadly 

I can what wreck, I can what preach 

I ain't even tripping, yeah pull out the sweep 

That's the streetsweeper, late night creeper 

Back in the game, use to have the damn beeper 



[Kyleon:] 

Use to have the beeper, flows like either I'm hot 

Get out of line, boys finna get shot 

With the glock, that's my damn nina 

It's the boy Kyleon, I stay's mo' cleaner 

Evesal on my ass, might be in white T 

Looking at my feet, I see the Air Force Ones fucking Nike 

Means they like me, but I'm not a Franchise Boy 

Killa Kyleon, I'm the real deal McCoy 

Holla at my boy, that's the damn whoadie 

Looking at the time, I see platinum eyes Roley 

Holla at the Eat Em boys, out the Acres Home 

It's the boy Killa, and I'm riding on chrome 

Got's to go long, got's to just wreck it 

Not 9-6, I ain't finna show my naked 

Putting on my clothes, I'm putting red monkey 

It's the boy Killa, I'm a freestyle junkie 

Holla, at the fucking PJ 

Might see me and my dog, on the damn freeway 

In the GT, that's the Bentley Coupe 

Smelling like jook, got's to say oops 

Cause I might fall off, no sir I'm not having it 

Get the microphone, Kyleon's gon grabbing it 

Looking at the cabinet, hold up man I done fucked up 

Damn, I done fucked up 



[Slim Thug:] 

Boy done fucked up, go on 'head pass the flow 

Grab the microphone, let the Boss Man go 

Gon talk shit, don't love a bitch 

Boss Hogg Outlawz, yeah that's the click 

It's Outlaw season, haters stop breathing 

I'ma bust the tech, till you haters get to leaving 

Leaving the earth, been a baller since birth 

Gotta shoot the deuce, to the C and the Purt 

And my nigga Killa, can't forget about the Dai' 

Every Sunday, we at the park is how we play 

With the trunk open, yellow hoes scoping 

I'ma swang the swangs, till the swangs get broken 

H-Town repping, high steaks stepping 

Coming through the boulevard, Boss Hogg repping 

Representing the click, leaving boys sick 

Bitches on dick, cause a nigga got rich 

Got a lot of paper, you can't fuck with me 

If you got a problem with the Boss, come get me 

Quit all the talking, start with the walking 

I'ma l-leave these boys dead, wrapped in chalk'n 

Cause I ain't playing, Northside staying 

Been the first nigga, with the grill and you know what I'm saying 

In the Tex, invisible set cut 

I don't give a fuck, bout a motherfucking slut 

Keep a bitch with a big fat butt, on my side 

When I ride through the North, South or Eastside 

Can't forget about the West, keep a hundred thousand on my chest 

Don't bar plex, and I represent the Tex 

If you niggaz disrespect, you get killed 

All about getting my fucking paper, yeah the scrill 

Stay dollar bills, stay up in my pocket 

When you see the Boss riding clean, you can't knock it 

Got up on my hustle, got up on my grind 

When I hit the H-Town streets, yeah I shine 

Shutting boys down, been doing it for a couple years 

Man them haters see me man, I make em wanna cry tears 

Cause a nigga, looking good 

Representing for the Homestead, that's the hood 

All the way over, to the motherfucking Acres 

Had to show them boys, Northside stacking paper 

Never been a bitch, never been a hoe 

Grab the microphone, I'm a freestyle pro 

All about the do', can't spit shit so-so 

Riding on fo' 4's, hell yeah I'm bl-blowing on the dro 

Gotta, keep it lit 

When them hoes see me, hell yeah I'm the shit 

Dropping bumper kits, when I pull up on the scene 

Might ride blue, or I might ride gleam fuck 



[talking:] 

Come on with it G 

Give it to me again dog, I'm fucked up