[Intro:]
Yeah
H-town pull ya slabs out (H-Town!)
H-town pull ya slabs out (It's goin down!)
Alright alright alright

[Verse 1:]
Look, you can tell I'm a balla
When I'm in the 6-4 Chevrolet Impala
Cause the gloss on the candy paint is so lean
Rims big as Ruben, tires skinny as a dope fiend
It look clean from the oustide
But I'm ridin dirty cause of what I stashed in the rawhide
The big grills guaranteed to leave ya mouth wide
When ya see me cruzin' through the streets of the Southside
The state of Texas is where I'm from
Yeah, I'm a cowboy so when I ride I wear my gun
So run if you hear the glock noise
Or get shot down and stomped till ya all broke up like the Hot Boyz
Chicks wishin' they could ride with the young buck
While I'm lane switchin swangin' wild as some nunchucks
I told ya I'm strapped in case a hater run up
I leave 'em full of holes like a belt when I come bust

[Hook: x2]
Cause I'm cruzin' down the street in my 6-4
Roll up a sweet and fire the Indo
Let the top back, roll down the window
I'm hittin swithces on a mission to get dough

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street
Cr-cr-cruzin' down the street in my 6-4
Cruzin' down the street
Cr-cr-cruzin' down the street in my 6-4

[Verse 2:]
Uh,
You could tell I'm paper stackin
When you see my old school Chevy Capris Classic
Plus I got the speakers blastin
Bangin, ride with me, you gon' need to bring some aspirin
Four twelves in the trunk bridge the amplified
But the lil' rims with the slim lay on the camel tires
I hit the A and vallet at the Lenox mall
Smokin' on some sticky the same color as tennis balls
I ain't finished dawg
It's full of screens on the seats, reclined
While I'm watchin Crazy Joe in "Lean On Me"
I had to stop when the cops put the beams on me
Cause he pulled me over askin if I had some weed on me
But I told him no, so he let me go
He thought I was high cause I was ridin in my Chevy slow
Okay, I was blowed but I ain't tell him that
Slowin up traffic I'm the cat they yellin at

[Hook: x2]
Cause I'm cruzin' down the street in my 6-4
Roll up a sweet and fire the Indo
Let the top back, roll down the window
I'm hittin swithces on a mission to get dough

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street

[Verse 3:]
Damn!
I had to park the 6-4 cause it had a scratch
I ain't trippin now it's time to pull out the Cadillac
Yeah, that's how we do it down in H-Town
Ridin Fleetwoods bout as long as a Greyhound
On the steerin wheel is where the wood grain go
I got the fifth wheel but I ain't talkin bout a game show
You might see a playa swangin', swervin'
Cause down here all they drink is syrup'll have ya lazy
Eyes low, Screw tape screamin' play me
Fat Pat rappin man, hold up baby
Man, but a playa still cruzin'
Let the boy Short show you how we do in Houston
Even from the haters dawg, I gain respect
Cause when I pass by, I have his chick bout to sprain her neck
You wonder why ya ho wanna ride with me
Cause I'm on Spreewells and you rollin' on Mike Bibby's
Get with me