PAROLES
[Intro: Megan Thee Stallion]
Real motherfuckin’ H-Town shit
(Sippin’ on a four)
I’m from the Southside, you know how we ride
(Sip, sippin’ on a four and I’m ja—, ja—, ja—)
(What Juicy say? He be like, “Shut the fuck up”)
(Jammin’ on the strip)
[Verse 1: Megan Thee Stallion]
Ayy, what’s up bitch? It’s Megan, and I’m from South Park
And if it’s ’bout some motherfuckin’ money we could talk
Ayy, a lot of bitches hate me, and these niggas too
But when you gettin’ money, that’s what haters ‘posed to do, ayy
Bitch, I’m out here shinin’
I’m really Houston’s finest
I don’t know if he lookin’ at the titties or these diamonds (Yeah, ah)
These hoes can’t stand me (Ah)
Niggas want my panties
And I threw thе “H” up when I brought home all them Grammys
Hunnid K on my watch, yuh
Thick, brown skin with thе long hair
Diamonds all on my G-string, but I’m still eatin’ at TP’s
Used meet my tricks at Pappadeaux, hit the bar with all my hoes
Take me to the gallery and tell that nigga to “Buy me those”, ah
[Verse 2: Sauce Walka?]
Ooh-wee
Trip creator, the inventor of the flavor
The “P” stand for “Pimpin’,” it don’t stand for “Pushin’ paper”
The pain is now or later, but the car Mercedes Benz
Now a days at Splashtown there’s Maybachs on G10s
Fifteens and onion rings
Cars laced like shoestrings
It’s a dream to drop the top and come down Luther King
We the reason why y’all diamond grills and ice chain medallions
This the city with no doctor needed, you might make a stallion
New Ferrari, it’s Italian
And a rapper paid for it
Coming down to H-Town, trickin’ off when he was bored
It’s ain’t shit I can’t afford
No deal, Rolls Royce
Quarter million diamond in my face, tears of joy
[Verse 3: Big Pokey?]
Lookin’ like a legend when I slide up gently
They askin’ for the king, nigga, tell ’em Blunt sent me
They waitin’ on the ‘Lac and not the one that’s black
I’m in the ’76 Hog crawlin’ like a razorback
I caught your bitch lookin’, the wait paint gushin’
Shot the deuce and kept pushin’ on the double stitched cushion (Yeah)
Special and spectacular
Slab ridin’ ambassador of the Cutlass
Out here runnin’ like a Hellcat Challenger
Martin Luther master
Cullen Street captain
Top peeled back, all white, like a napkin (Yeah)
Runnin’ like a stallion
Southside of town, call me Don Key the great (Yeah)
Yeah, Mr. [? 2:05]
[Verse 4: Lil Keke?]
Die with me, ho
