| Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (7−1-Tre) |
| 7−1-3 boy, smoke good tree boy |
| Jam Bun B boy, free Pimp C boy |
| Yeah it’s me boy, raised in the 3 boy |
| The South’s Jay-Z boy, get a load of me boy |
| I’m so thoed, riding in a wide body load |
| Remote control, just to see the top unfold |
| I’m hogging the road, in something with fo’do’s |
| With fo’hoes, ready to take off they clothes |
| You been exposed, to a place ain’t no dirt roads |
| It’s elbows and vogues, or you rolling deuce 4's |
| Fades and afros, and designer clothes |
| You in the big leagues now, you dealing with pros |
| We been doing this, since '86 |
| T-tops and ricks, and I bang the six |
| Y’all boys new to this, to us it’s old |
| Remember 7−1-3, is the area code |
| Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (2−8-1) |
| Ok I get it how I live, cause it must be done |
| It’s either 7−1-3, or probably 2−8-1 |
| They say Lil’Keke is a legend, so how long will you mourn |
| Smoke the dank and sip the drank, because I’m Texas born |
| I’m a Custom Made Gangsta, C.M.G. on the plate |
| I’m in a wide body beamer, call it quarter to eight |
| Catch me slipping and sliding, prolly banging up in my tape |
| If you coming 2−8-1, then you exit the Beltway |
| Take I-10 to 6−10, but take your time |
| I’m passing by the galleria, them laws from 59 |
| Got three area codes, cause we back in demand |
| But don’t ever get it twisted, it’s Priches or Timmy Chan’s |
| Thug Dirt layed the fire, so it’s def’nitely good |
| From the bottom to the top, I give it back to the hood |
| It’s the 7−1-Tre, call it the 8−3-2 |
| We represent for 2−8-1, cause my niggaz that’s what it do Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (8−3-2) |
| Sensei’ll kill the beat, make a nigga feel the heat |
| Yellowstone Texas nigga, tough as guerilla meat |
| 15's in the trunk, kicking like guerilla feet |
| Hard top flat screen, palamine pillow seats |
| Never let a broad, take me out of my mind |
| Podina gon make her break, and pay me like a fine |
| Me I get the work, go straight to the mound |
| Old school hitting switches, nigga scraping the ground |
| I’m the same nigga repping for time |
| At the house screaming money over bullshit, safe on the grind |
| Them wankstas in the way daddy, they finna find |
| The flood gates open, soon as I’m finna break me it dizzown |
| The rap game, kinda remind me of the grid iron |
| In the heat all day on my feet, putting my bid down |
| I go off like a seed nine, cold in the booth |
| 7−60 with the wig down, 8−3-2 |
| Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (7−1-Tre) |
| Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (2−8-1) |
| Gon and pop your trunk, and sip your drank |
| With your wide body, hogging the road |
| Gon and smoke your dro, throw up your set |
| Where you from fool (8−3-2) |