(feat. Lil' B)


[Trae]

Guerilla Maab in the trunk, when I'm whipping the boulevard

Rearrange the block when I swang and bang, I'm gripping grain

Banging Maan when the cd change, and leave stains till a motherfucker

Know my name I'm Lil' Trae, hey nigga what they say

The young gun fin to come, tipping up few quay, blue over gray

AK's on cock I don't play, on the grind full time to ball and parlay

I can flip my tongue, and make a nigga say whoa

If you really want plex, what it do here I go

Niggas don't no hoes, are coming up out of the Maab

Stepping out pimp stripes, laced up with a Dob hat

Grab a gat, nigga where the hatas at

Like that Mr. Fat Pat, we fin to rat-a-tat

To make a nigga blood back, you don't wanna see that

I'm fin to be breaking em off, when I click on wax

Cocking the glock dropping the top, and making em up out the box

And body rocking the lot, and leaving a nigga shot

When I step out, bitch niggas be on the run

Nigga come and get some, you don't really want none

I'm a thug nigga, fucking with me you fin to get sprayed

I'm screwed up and throwed off, and gone in the brain

Representing my click, to the fullest everyday all day

Stepping to us, fifteen coming your way

Shotgun blast, keep a nigga moving it fast

When I set it off, making a nigga feel like trash

Guerilla Maab competitors stand, and hitting yeah

And if a nigga don't know, I'm fin to be breaking yeah

Pretty licking yes a nigga, what you be talking about

I'ma ride for the South, till the house get burned down

Shut down, nigga be coming way too throwed

You know Guerilla Maab made niggas, out of control


[Chorus x2]

Everybody gon know, that my click gon set it off

Balling out of control, we on the grind representing the South

Everybody gon know, that my niggas ain't no taking no loss

Balling out of control, them underdawgs coming out the South


[Lil' B]

We gon hold it down, and represent for the South

Lil' B, diamond cut up in my mouth

And when I shock I rock, I make a hoe crowd jocks

Six feet off the lot, with my trunk in the lot

Bunny hop nigga, you know how we do it

Slow Loud And Bangin', I thought you boys knew it

Guerilla gon shred, and track just like fluid

And take on a nigga, like Nike just do it

Screw it slow it down, and blaze a pound

Southside H-Town, gotta grind get mine

In the heart of the Herm Clark, is where I touch down

For the niggas that's plexing, I live on Grapevine

On the corners I'm turning, Yokohamas be burning

Wood grain be sturning, its the money I'm earning

Up in the kitchen and wishing, Expeditions we flipping

Chrome glocks we gripping, loading with the clip in

The end is not yet, cause I just broke a sweat

Riding now in a jet, I'm fly you could bet

We some throwed ass niggas, that get down for the team

Three gold shining, so fresh and so clean

I mean we shaking em off, and taking em off

To the backyard where the South click, be setting it off

Breaking em off, we can't be soft, because the 

Southside Guerilla Maab, and niggas ain't taking no loss


[Chorus x2]


[Dougie D]

Here I go like the Mystikal, slapping the shit up out of a 

Motherfucker bumping his gums, motherfuckers you fin to feel us

We ain't tripping with none of you niggas

We be wrecking shop and dropping the bombs

I said that nigga kinda cold and throwed and, gripping a round

When you hear me in a tape deck you, pushing rewind

Got your head bobbing and jacking

And body rocking and shocking, whenever I spit the first time

And some of you bitches love that don't you

Throwing the deuce, up to my niggas and my roll dogs 

And that be bobbing in the trunk, we fin to mash dog

Literally dropping this heat, all up on ya

I spit rhymes, like a automatic rapper be gone

Checking the mic up at the first, and at all times

Guerilla Maab made motherfuckers gon shine

Call us the Underdawgs my nigga, but we gon climb

Motherfuckers screaming no, we gon go go and slam do's

And knocking motherfuckers up, acting like its cold

4-4's and smash hoes, and leaving a nigga fold

Constantly keeping my mind, up on my motherfucking do'

Its me the D-O-U-G-I-E, keeping it crunk

For me, my fucking family could eat

We be the M to the double A-B, ain't nothing but G's

And motherfuckers gon see


[Chorus x4]