(feat. H.A.W.K., Lil' Keke, Mike D)



[Hook: x2]

It's the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3



[H.A.W.K.:]

Thinking, of a masterplan

Ain't nothing but a mic, inside my hand

Plus a couple hundred grand, and some female fans

In a Sedan, fame when they touch my hand

Yeah I'm the man, the flow is hotter than kayan

Not lying, boys can keep trying

Catch me in a black van, inside's pecan

Rubberband man, wild as the Taliban

I'm half bird half man, you know they ran

Before I began, fools wonder who that man

Ask your girl she's a fan, I'm in high demand

And man to man, I got her doing a handstand

You holding hands, I hope I didn't ruin your plans

I'm just saying, now you know the man

It's Dub-K, don't rub me the wrong way

Or I'll display a K, and blow you away

End discussion, turn up the bass and percussion

No introduction, just label me a self destruction

I'm busting and busting, y'all niggaz running and ducking

And huffing and puffing, and really ain't talking bout nothing

I'm stuffing and hustling, y'all niggaz broke and something

Y'all disgusting, homeboy I came from nothing

Now y'all know, the dude that spit this flow

Is the next motherfucker, in the South to blow fa sho



[Hook:]

It's the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3

It's the S.U.C., coming up is Lil' Ke'



[Lil' Keke:]

Well, I'm thinking of a masterplan

By the boat by the plane, Cadillac by land

Turning corners working wood, with the sweet in my hand

Kicking blow freestyle, in the back of the van

Brand new Lex truck, it's the color of sand

24's popped up, inside is tan

Purple kush sweet tooth, shore line again

Might get a better deal, if you spending a grand

Not a coward I'm a G, never took off or ran

I'm the truth young nigga, not a flash of the past

It's Churches or Popeye's, so I'm back to the Chan

It's Malibu or South Beach, when I go to the sand

I could be sitting broke, out here kicking a can

Instead I'm two story, on some acres of land

But you bitches out here, trying to ruin my plan

When the smoke clear up, a nigga still gon stand Young Don



[Hook:]

It's the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3

It's the S.U.C., coming up is Mike D



[Mike D:]

The way I twist my palm, and work my wand

The way I shoot my gab, and handle my runs

They think jail shake a G up, I'ma bake a ki up

Holla at my vatos, drop out and re-up

I'm S.U.C.'d up, POLO Jabo and Re'd up

The streets gon love me, the way my niggaz eat up

It's still a few cakes in the click, we gotta cross

I swear I'ma get em, for crossing the young boss

I'm tired of dreaming of my click, flying in them hemi's

Reality need to be my nigga, swanging in Bentleys

Screwed Up Click, we started it gon finish it

Pull up in that new joint, rims doing that spinning shit

It's Corleone, macking on my cell phone

Stay because sister, ese's and bad yellow bones

S.U.C. homie, Boss Hogg D homie

We check the phonies, now I roll by lonely coming down with that



[Hook:]

It's S.U.C., for the 7-1-3

It's the S.U.C.



[talking:]

S.U.C. 7-1-3, Take Over baby

The album coming soon baby, Summer 2005

Get ready for it