Paul Wall

Houston BBQ
Hold up Goddamn This ho go, I ain't lyin' (For real) This bitch go right here (Know what I'm sayin'?) I been waitin' a long time to rock one of these Large Professor beats (Big facts) Back on the block With my brothers Paul and Term' Round two, let's get it, baby (Let's roll) Ayy Hey, I wake up in the morning thinkin', "The world is mine" Living in a house that's big with a girl that's fine Ride around in the car that cost more than an Ivy League education I don't sip Starbucks, I make 'em As-salamu alaykum to the gods Middle finger up to the fraud Stick my middle finger up in your broad You a sucker with a gangster façade I'm the dealer pulling your card No holds barred, I go so hard Put me on a beat by Large Pro I spit a verse that left for dead in Paul garage though But what you expect when you beckon the OG? I reckon get to wreckin', six foot is down to four three None of it done low-key, I broad-day you You know me, where I see you is where I'ma lay you Letras de cancionesOn the ground, screamin' out, "Somebody help me" It's Bun, Paul, and Term' on production from LP I stay true from the womb to the tomb Married to the grind, we the bride and groom My cup full like the moon, full of Warren Moon Left my nuts on your chin, but I'll be back soon Don't assume that we the same, you must be high like noon Inhaling balloons to think that you can make me gloom Build real life bonds, not just on zoom Rest in peace Pimp C and MF DOOM Make room for the Slab, I'm 'bout to park it Drank-stained carpet, don't get me started Got greens like the farmers market, let's go spark it I got goals for the squad and we right on target It's uncharted, the final destination Pardon me, I drive slow, please be patient With Bun and Large P in the rotation Termanology in the equation, it's the Paul Wall Paper I'm at the blue note counting blue notes, pit blue nose Karate flip quick to a brick like judo Hoppin' out the whip, two-door, papi, you know Movin' through the app, now we trapped through the two row We all got classics, depend who you asking I'd be doing anything my pen can imagine Autobiographic, kings of this rap shit The heart-colded assassins My expertise, show you had to get this cheese They know I'm the main source, I got extra beans Slam the door in your face, no respect for these Eloquently, I take it to the next degree It's the triple OG, Slab God, and me So many GOATs in the room, they could hardly breathe If you see me in the garden, pardon me I'm doing my thing as you should be doing the same One, two, three of the best that ever did it Got my brother Paul to the right and Term to the left of off me Wall Paper, Term', and Bun B One, two, three of the best that ever did it From Letras Mania