Trae tha Truth
I’m From Texas FAKE
[Intro: Trae]
Chyeah, 'knowmtalmbout?
You ain’t shit if you ain’t screwed up, fo' real

[Verse 1: Z-Ro, (Trae) & Both]
Houston, Texas, home of DJ Screw
We say know’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 thru)
Elbow and Vogues and expensive clothes
Candy-paint our cars, big booties on our hoes
(Got diamonds in our mouth, still represent the south
Put the truck up bitch, I’m swanging four’s)
I sip codeine out the styrofoam
27-10 is the kinda grind on
I ain’t ever love a bitch, so I’m riding alone
Prol'ly when them n***as ain’t on the kind of 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 them you’re gonna 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
[Hook: Trae]
You can 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 Texas
Gla-glass underneath, beatin’-beatin', my block
Pop-pop my trunk, chain-chain fulla 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 friend
Trae tha Truth, ridin’ right behind
Two cups full and I’m on my grind
Talkin’ dine, 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 stacked
Hoes wanna hate but it don’t mean jack
Wheres there’s money that’s where I’m at
That Texas grind, that’s all I know
Bangin’ screw and drankin’ Big Moe
Basically get that dough, bro
[Verse 3: Slim Thug]
Northside, where the boss ride
E'ry day I got play outside (huh?)
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 (huh? What?)
Smoke blunts and sip punch
Like its 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'mma rep the north like I gangbang (Thugga)

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Kirko Bangz]
Uhh, I gotta 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 a 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 lottta drank but I'm healthy mami
Daddy was cool, but he couldn’t really tell me nothin'
Uhh! Everybody think a n***a lucked up
Young Kirko, he done blew up
From the H-town, n***a what’s up?
[Verse 5: Bun B]
I’m Port Author, Texas, let’s get that straight off the top
That’s where the hustlin’ and grindin’ and the hatin’ don’t stop
From the westside to east, we out here duckin’ them cops
And coming dine, candy paint, on them motherfuckin’ chops
It’s the land of the trill, that’s where the whole thang came from
And it 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 represent it with blood sweat and bullets
Ho, I’m from Texas!

[Hook]