(feat. Cl'Che)


[talking]

Rock, what are you doin

I thought you said you was gon have a track

Ready for me by this afternoon, you know

This here ain't me, you know dat

I gotta have somethin to keep em jamming

Uh huh, yeah, I'm kinda cold for this shit naw

Its growing on me, lets try this right quick, iight

Come on Rock, let me try it


[Hook x2]

I'ma keep it jamming the Southside, what the deal

Where the boppas bop, where the tops drop

And the choppers chop, candy paint out the shop

I'ma keep it jamming the Southside, keep it real

?Prenorcamines?, sipping on codeine

While the hoodrats scream, watching diamonds gleam


[Cl'Che]

Too much jealousy, and everybody wanna stop me

From doing what I wanna do, been keeping it true

With a chance to lose, my city credibility

That I originated for Screw, when I say Southside

It goes for everybody, sitting below the sun

And whoever thinking this rap shit is done

Nigga guess what, it just begun

Tasters just dropping, choppers still chopping

While they be chopping, your head off

There they go, those who don't know about a damn thang

Be the first ones, to run they mouth

Hoodrats in the hood fantasizing, about my ice

Fellas want me to drop a verse, but they can't pay the price

I'd rather be the bitch, a nigga love to hate

And I've been the bitch, a nigga love is fake

Its a what in here, why you wanna (hate on me)

Cause our rhyming is tight, the way my (diamonds gleam)

Cl'Che keep you jumping, up out your seat

When its time to run, you crank up the scene

We on light green, so we can ball and parlay

Stuck in Houston, do everyday

So you can sit and feel what I mean, when I say Southside

Everybody sing with me


[Hook x2]


[Z-Ro]

Too many people, be trying to watch a nigga

They setting up road blocks, and trying to stop a nigga

But I'ma represent the Southside, for the hell of a swang

I'm sticking and moving, to cold knock a nigga

3-57, Mack 11 pulling out twenty five

Up in a 12 gauge pump, will keep the party alive

But ain't no need for the tripping, I'm steady sipping on bar

The marijuana be burning, everytime I flip in a car

Dumping the ash, looking for the law at all times

One deep in the Benz, you wanna plex

I'll suppose to be jumping your ass, steady punking your ass

A buffalo bayou, a square nigga dumping your ass

Permits for the cash, I'ma get ready for the South

To meg a killa beg, like a bitch

Kinda sound like when Chris Tucker laugh

Thought you was a man, but when the shit hit the fan

You was running down Ridgevan, can you understand

I can go hard on the god damn dank

I can go hard on a god damn drank

Sip a four, sip a eight, sip a pint straight

Let it down, and scrape the plate

You wanna meet the man, and never think you wanna damn

Son of a bitches up in my face, there ain't no time to waste

I bleed the block like everyday, and put it down in the studio 

With Cl'Che, I got too many problems on my mind

And another serial number, on my nine

So if you looking for Z-Ro, come to Ridgemont

When I'm staying and rapping, I'm still on my grind

And like Mafio, by the year two triple O

I'ma come down, in a six double O

With green flow, mats on the floe

Candy paint on my do', its bout time for the hook and it go


[Hook x2]


[Cl'Che]

I'ma keep you jamming, while the beat is slamming

I'ma keep you moving, I'ma keep you grooving

I'ma keep on climbing, make my money grinding

Bumper kit reclining, diamonds blinding, shining


Here I go, and everybody wanna approach me

The way I'm flowing, and I what I claim as my click

Down with the Guerilla Maab, and the Z-Ro

On that flipping, sits some say its hard to spit

But its easy to do, when I come knocking but natural to you

Flip you out, how I made flip my style for a while

But I'm representing the Southside, putting it down

Wherever you go, and you jamming this spots

Like Houston on lock, 1.97 on The Box

Banging out your speakers, everytime you crank up

Your choppers, and your heaters

I'ma keep you, jamming the Southside

I'ma make you, wanna ride on the Southside

We'll teach you, how to make your diamonds blind

At the same time, your trunk recline


[Trae]

Popping the trunk, dropping the top and I'm ready to ride

Southside till I die, I gotta be keeping it crunk

Put me on the microphone, and I be wrecking the beat

And at the same time, I'ma be ready to make a seed

And that Guerilla Maab ain't, fin to be playing with boys

We leaving permanent scars, and steady wrecking the bars

Leave me on the six team, I'm fin to be dominating

Nobody wanna go to war, cause we be going too hard

No more ghetto fame, bout the click that I claim

Worldwide outta state, everybody be yelling my name

Resurrection, all in your motherfucking face

We get the crowd crunk, everytime we step in the place

Keeping em jamming, keeping em bobbing, and keeping em rocking

And I'm the type of nigga, that'd be blowing your speakers out

Without a doubt, you better be coming correct

Ready to wreck, cause this click, done gained they respect


[Hook x2]