[Intro: Trae tha Truth]
Chyeah, know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
You ain’t shit if you ain’t screwed up, for real

[Verse 1: Z-Ro & Trae tha Truth]
Houston, Texas, home of DJ Screw
Where we say "know what I'm saying" and "what it do?"
And if a n***a don’t like it, tell them bitches I rep Texas
Topless in the slab I come through
Elbow and Vogues and expensive clothes
Candy paint our cars, big booties on our hoes
Got diamonds in our mouth, still representin' the south
Pull the truck up bitch, I’m swanging four’s
I sip codeine out the styrofoam, 27-10 is the kind of grind on
I ain’t ever love a bitch so I ride alone
Prolly why them n***as ain’t on the shine I’m on
Big dully trucks with the big rims
And the Cadillac with the fifth wheel
We from the hood and we keep steel
If you try to jack, you gon' get killed
I don’t wear my britches tight, I wear them loose
Active Athlete for all my footwear, homie I got too many shoes
I'm the man in my city, tell them n***as I won't lose
Cross that path and my n***a Hawk, we still gon’ chunk the deuce

[Chorus: Trae tha Truth]
Find me in the hood in the city that I claim
Moving slow like the music that I bang, screwed-screwed up
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Tex-
Gla-Glass underneath, beatin'-beatin' my block
Pop-pop my trunk, chain-chain full of rocks
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
[Verse 2: Paul Wall]
You can find me in H-O-U-S-T-O-N ridin' in
Candy trim on pokey rims with a ten and her friends
Trae the Truth ridin’ right behind
Two cups full and I'm on my grind
Talkin' down, respect my mind
I’ll show you boys how Texas get down
Rolex time, top lift back
On my nuts cause I got that sack
Papered up to the roof, it stack
Hoes wanna hate but it don’t mean jack
Where's there’s money, that’s where I’m at
That Texas grind, that’s all I know
Bangin' Screw and drankin' Big Moe
And basically get that dough, bro

[Verse 3: Slim Thug]
Northside where the boss ride, every day, I got play outside
Leavin' them haters mouth wide
Can't be denied when they see me slide
Through the hood like I live there, shit, I got a few cribs there
All my G’s still chill there, we barbecuin' them ribs there
Smoke blunts and sip punch like it's lunch, every day, we do it
Listenin' to nothin but Texas music
Perfect match for that good fluid
Find me in the hood in the city I claim
Everybody down in H-Town know me mayne
It ain't a choice, I can’t change, I'ma rep the north like I gang bang
Thugga
[Chorus: Trae tha Truth]
Find me in the hood in the city that I claim
Moving slow like the music that I bang, screwed-screwed up
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Tex-
Gla-Glass underneath, beatin'-beatin' my block
Pop-pop my trunk, chain-chain full of rocks
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas

[Verse 4: Kirko Bangz]
Uhh, I got a bad ass bitch, parked outside
Yella diamond my wrist, if it’s dark outside
Pull a lil’ bitch then I catch ghost
Just a lil’ kid from the ghetto
Never had shit but I got a lil’ bit
When I got a couple hits under this belt
Throw the H up, n***a, I ain’t tryna belch or nothin’
Ain't got a whole lotta money but I'm wealthy money
I sip a whole lotta drank but I'm healthy mami
Daddy was cool but he couldn’t really tell me nothin'
Nah (Nah) everybody think a n***a lucked up
Young Kirko, he done blew up
From the H-Town, worldwide, n***a what’s up?

[Verse 5: Bun B]
I’m Port Arthor, Texas, let’s get that straight off the top
That’s where the hustlin’ and grindin’ and the hatin’ don’t stop
From westside to the east, we out here duckin’ them cops
And coming down candy painted them motherfuckin’ chops
It’s the land of the trill, that’s where the whole thang came from
And it ain't just a word or where a rapper get his name from
It’s a way of life and we live to the fullest
For years, we represented it with blood, sweat and bullets
Ho, I’m from Texas!
[Chorus: Trae tha Truth]
Find me in the hood in the city that I claim
Moving slow like the music that I bang, screwed-screwed up
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Tex-
Gla-Glass underneath, beatin'-beatin' my block
Pop-pop my trunk, chain-chain full of rocks
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas
Bitch I'm from Texas, yeah, bitch I'm from Texas