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lirik lagu trae - bitch i'm from texas

chyeah, know’m talm bout?
you ain’t sh-t if you ain’t screwed up, for real

houston, texas, home of dj screw
we say know’m saying and what it do?
and if a n-gg- don’t like it, tell them b-tches i rep texas
topless, in the slab i come thru
elbow and vogues and expensive clothes
candy paint car our cars, big booties on our hoes
got diamonds in our mouth, still represent the south
put the truck up b-tch, i’m sw-nging four’s
i sip codeine out the styrofoam, 27- 10 is the kinda grind on
i ain’t ever love a b-tch, so i’m riding alone
prolly when them n-gg-s 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-gg-s i won’t lose
cross that path, and my n-gg- hawk, we still gon’ chunk the deuce

find me in the hood, in the city that i claim
moving slow, like the music that i bang, screwed!, screwed up!
b-tch i’m from texas, yeah, b-tch i’m from texas
b-tch i’m from texas, yeah, b-tch i’m from texas
gl-ss underneath, beatin’, beatin’, my block
pop, pop my trunk, chain fulla rocks
b-tch i’m from texas yeah, b-tch i’m from texas
b-tch i’m from texas yeah, b-tch i’m from texas

you can find me iin h. o.u.s.t.o.iiin, ridin’iin in
candy trim, on pokey rims
wit a tien, an her friiend
trae the 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 dine
rolex time, top lift back
on my nuts, cuz 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

nawf side, where the boss ride
every day i got play outside. huh?
leavin’ them haters mouth wide
cant’ be denied when they see me slide
through the hood like i live there
sh-t i got a few cribs there
all my g’s still chill there
we barbecuing’ 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 dine in h- town know me mayne
it ain’t a choice, i can’t change
i’ma rep the nawf like i gang bang, thugga

uhh, i gotta bad azz b-tch, parked outside
yella diamond my wrist, if it’s dark outside
pull a lil’ b-tch then i catch ghost
justa lil’ kid from the ghetto
never had sh-t but i got a lil’ bit
when i got a couple hits unda this belt
throw a h up, n-gg-, 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-gg- lucked up
young kirko, he done blew up
from the h- town, n-gg- what’s up?

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 west side to east, we out here duckin’ them cops
and coming dine, candy paint, on them mother f-ckin’ 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, with it blood sweat and bullets
ho, i’m from texas!

- lirik lagu trae

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