[Chorus: Sancho Saucy]
Real talk, [?] kickin'
Flava in they ear
I think I got something they wanna hear
I'm kickin' flava in they ear
Flava in they ear
DJ [?] spin the record, flava in they ear
We got some flava in they ear
Flava in they ear
My n***as got the block, ooh, flava in they ear
We got that flava in they ear (Yeah, yeah, we got that)
That flava in they ear (Bitch, we got that)
They taste, ack, so good (Good)
Flava in they ear (I got that)

[Verse 1: Kirko Bangz]
All my n***as got sauce, man
I done pulled up on a sauce plan
I'm a eastside n***a, nеver been a big n***a
But I swear to god I ain't nevеr [?] change
My n***a Rizzo from the north, man
He never changed on me like a arcade
My n***a J.P. from the fifth ward
[?] cream, leave a n***a in the park, man
I pulled up, two-seater
N***a use [?], not Adidas
Shoppin' in [?], sauce by the liter
N***a, this a Bentley, not a Kia
And I don't wanna shop at IKEA
N***a, I been flickin' my wrist
N***a, I been flippin' your bitch
N***a, I been pimpin' your bitch
'Cause all them n***as she fuck with ain't got flava like this (Whoo, ayy)
[Verse 2: Sauce Walka]
God damn
Sauce done made another jam (God damn)
OMG, that sauce on me (On me), just post a n***a to the 'Gram (To the 'Gram)
I done pulled up in a droptop Benz, bitch
Game need a number like [?]
And the only motherfucker [?] you can explain us, sauce is HAM (HAM)
Harder than a motherfucker (Harder than a motherfucker)
I done put the bitch in Tokyo (I did)
God damn, I'm Chris Tucker (God damn, I'm Chris Tucker)
Flava in your ear right here, I know he a mean motherfucker
I know you hear me
Splash, drip drop (Drip)
I done broke a bitch for a wristwatch
Flava in your ear, got your bitch with her tits out
What you talkin' 'bout?

[Verse 3: Moe Gang]
All my n***as got (Whoo, whoo)
All my n***as got (Whoo, whoo, all my n***a)
All my n***as got sauce (Sauce)
All my n***as got spice ([?])
Started off, had to pay the drug dealer, turned out nice
Mix the codeine with the Sprite (Lean)
N***as deal crack, don't fiend with a mic
Bobby Brown, n***a, Bobby Brown, n***a (Sauce, sauce, sauce)
Set it [?], Queen Latifah
N***a kick flavor like FIFA
N***a, these Prada, not Adidas
Flyer than an egle
[?] sweater made out of cheetah
N***a, these [?], not [?] (Nah)
Sauce by the liter
Watching for all my people (Way)
Boy, I swear the chopper shoot a meter ([?] ten-feeter?)
I done drove all them kilos
Know that I'm a hitta like [?]
[Verse 4: Slim Thug]
I got that flava in your ear (Yeah)
Big paper up in here (Yeah)
Try me, watch me push a taper way behind your ear
I got gangstas in that fifth ward that'll kill for me (Yeah)
Made it out the hood but my hood still love me (Ayy)
Put that [?] on the map when that south had it loud (Outside)
Cut them braids off 'cause my shit kept falling out (Damn)
Took the grill out but, bitch, I'm still the trillest (I'm still the trillest)
Made mills with no deals, still spittin' flava, spiller

[Chorus: Sancho Saucy]
Real talk [?] kickin'
Flava in they ear (I got [?])
I think I got somethin' they wanna hear (They wanna)
I'm kickin' flava in they ear (That's flight)
Flava in they ear (That's flight)
DJ [?] spin the record, flava in they ear
We got some flava in they ear (Spin)
Flava in they ear (Chase it)
My n***as got the block, flava in they ear (N***a got that, got it)
We got that flava in they ear (Yeah, yeah, we got that)
We got that flava in they ear (Bitch, I got that)
The taste, ack, so good
Flava in they ear (Good, we kick that)