[Intro]
Yeah, dedicated to the Dirty South
Scarface in the motherfuckin' house
(Houston, Dallas, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia)
Rap-a-Lot, Def Jam South, doin' it for the homie Greg Street
(Miami, Florida, Oklahoma)
Represent the dirty, Dirty Third
(Kansas City, the Dirty Third, El Paso, San Antonio, recognize)
Recognize, homeboy, we bringin' it in on the count of three
And you can count, alright? Come on, come on

[Verse]
I can't be had, I can't be hit
That's why I get so bent that I can't see shit
This can't be it, it's gotta be more
Am I livin' in heaven or hell? I ain't sure
Is this where reality meets with 'Face face to face
Or just another journey encountered along the way?
Blessed the day I constantly repent for my sins
Go to bed with guilty consciences and do it again
I stay conscious in the 4 by 4 but that's only because
I've got six personalities and one's into drugs
When I was seventeen, I started out on my own
No matter how hard shit got I couldn't go home
So this H-Town's Face now
They say it's weakness in a smile so I walk around face frowned
Don't fuck around like you'll be face down
Paralyzed from your waist down
This is a brand new day now
[Outro]
Ayy now, it's the street shit
If you ain't bumpin' this street shit, you fuckin' with the weak shit
The weak shit, you ain't fuckin' with the street shit
You fuckin' with the weak shit
Ayy now, ayy now