[Verse One: Bun B]

Man, I been feelin' caged in

They try to stop us shackled us and dropped us

Tacklers, sackers, no propers, just smack us

Floppers, pro-tractors, ho-hoppers attack us

Broke crackers, no actors just coppers with choppers

With random and ?ricos? With cameras and peep holes

Can't stand us, we chose the scandalous, who planned this your people?

Fuck that you hero bucked at by weavels, and muskrats to seagulls

Touch that to bank rolls and c-notes to stank hoes and beagles

Drunk folks, clay folks, gay folks now we go to peep holes

Moving stars required, (?) nevermind my appearance

Leave your insurance for your clearance

Bitch, I roll for gun for endurance not a gimmick, nigga this ain't "Mommy Dearest"

A lot a said and clearing the closest and the freshest

This is that underground shit from Port Arson, Texas



[Chorus: Bun B]

I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga

I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga

Keep a bad yellow bitch that can fuck me down nigga

I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga

I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga

Keep mack up in my shit for my fucking pound nigga what?



[Verse Two: Pimp C]

I'm a big body flipper, syrup sipper

I keep two bitches so they call me Jack Tripper

Three years coming it, four as a rider

Only room for one dick bitch when I'm knocking you down

Got that dope by the pound, red jag on the ground

You can hear when I'm comin because I'm bangin' surround

And I'm getting my paper, so bitch fuck what you heard

My niggas ready to hit it they just wait for the word

Sell pipes and birds, water and herb, but not on the corner because my ho self-serve

When I'm ridin' the city, my car might swerve

My vision be blurred but I don't hit the curb

I got rich in the ghetto with my microphone

Everything I ride on wood and chrome

Ever since "Big Pimpin" I've been seeing the clones

Now everybody on they videos doing a sweet Jones



[Chorus]



[Verse Three: Bun B]

We runnin' through this rap game in break-neck speed, break-neck speed

Blocks like begs please your lex keys

Your checks freeze, your bank account shut down over seas

And both of these and toke of these while blowin' trees with cloves of G's

Move over please, make room for elbows we sell folks we sell those

Felons in jail clothes, it get sticky like Velcro, gently rub her semen

Women get tied up in scotch tape, now watch fate take it up a notch

Wait, a hot date? baddies boppin under the sun, get blunted with Bun

This summer we shun all inhibitions

No wonder we gunnin, now watch a stunner become a livin' landmark

Hands spark like (?) leave your plans dark

Mercury, glistening fuck who dissing it

Diss me, can't miss me just can't relate bitch, this my history date

No driven for this we wait, to determine 'till eternally burning

Quote my destiny, child you're learning it?



[Chorus]