DJ Screw — Freestyle Eyes Low

[Intro] Drama, nigga Bring it on Throwed in the South Wassup, Pop? Wassup, Robin Street? Wassup, D.E.A.? Ain't no set trippin, it's all about that paper I'm in here tonight with Ron G Some players outta Austin E.S.G off lock HAWK And the Southside Crew We gon' show you how we do it [Verse 1: Big Hawk] Now this for all my arch-rivals that be knockin' me Listen close and feel the quote of the MJG Cause y'all motherfuckers finna feel the South Exercise my freedom of speech and then I open my mouth Start spittin' hard lyrics that massage the brain This the East and the West, it's the Southside thing H-Town, H-Town, watch me gon' head and clown No ordinary vocabulary, a legend in right down Pimp the pen and the mint, writin' platinum shit Witness this lost conglomerate?, call 'em Screwed Up Click This ain't a war and I done told ya Whirl and now it's over, DJ Screw is the general with an entourage of soldiers I follow in the footsteps of 2Pac Shakur Be a rap game genius, music entrepreneur Connoisseur, with these debonair lyrics I lure Paper stacks and contracts that want my signature Ain't afraid to touch myself like that girl T-Boz Havin' childhood street dreams reminiscent of Nas I'm a [??]? hell nah, I'm accomplishing dreams Devising plots and schemes in order to increase my cream It may seem that it's taking a little longer than expected But my savvy grows stronger and my flows get more hectic Resurrected, my pen and pad from my high school days Cause only in this rap game will it pay like you weigh [Interlude: E.S.G.] Man You boys out there don't know who that was? That was that goddamn Big Hawk Representing that D.E.A Man, you know what I'm saying, we ain't just talking about popping this, doing this Nigga You heard that boy words, that vocabulary Shit, nigga, we on some throwed shit This that black-hearted, D.E.A., Botany Big Shots Man it's all called Screwed Up Entertainment, you know what I'm saying? And to all the niggas that was down that ain't down Y'all can eat a fat dick, know what I'm talkin' bout? Check it out Uhh I'm in here with that four, that boy Big Dave, Poppa, Big Trizzoy Know what I'm talkin' about Check it out [Verse 2: E.S.G] It’s goin’ down, fuck all these botany freaks These niggas actin’ bad on that damn Robin Street It’s the E to the S, you know I’m smokin’ on the killa Now let me break it down for all my real niggas Flip the Remi can’t you see me, nigga, bout to grip my cup At the club know it ain’t no love these young ass thugs picking out them bucks Bout to take they fuckin truck, they Lexus, or they old-school You can run like Michael Johnson nigga be dumpin’ for your gold shoes [??] paid my dues, shife fools gon’ try to be heroes Best retreat cause we bring the heat, like Pacino and De Niro Cemetery full of my cousins, them loved ones got lost in This all what it cost to be the boss that’s why nowadays I thug with caution Still be cold, I’m on parole, they hopin’ I violate Give influence to a murder nigga when you buy my tapes Try to relate and concentrate, comprehend the way I spin the words Break down my nouns like the quarter pound, adjectives, metaphors and verbs Fuck what ya heard, just let me serve Pounds of herb like they hors d'oeuvres Have ya all up on the curb, from section 8 to the suburbs Can I touch nerve, the truck swerve, until it sees a jacker Come out the top lookin’ sharp with a Glock and watch me subtract ya Automatic mathematics take the breath out them busters Down them killas, down them dealers, almost left out them hustlers Ready to mob, do the job we some real busy players Thug nation occupation we some mill ticket chasers At the rallies wanna raid us, now I’m bored of haters Went to jail if I shot ya down, smell like a pound of start up gator, shit It’s goin’ down, I’m bout to knock that roof off Back in the day, smokin’ big Bay, man, k we knocked the deuce off Now I’m crunk, baby boy, with more shit than the safe And now I’m mobbin’ with the Screwed Up and D.E.A So if you ain’t down bitch, you best not trip Cause a nigga might put a slug on them big ass lips [Verse 3: Big Hawk] I got dollars on my mind, to battle inflation A project livin’ thug with a college education I done sailed the Atlantic, swam the Pacific Sold a bird in Egypt, drew it up in hieroglyphics Be specific, I still sip syrup and slang cheese I even heard my flows being said in Chinese Nigga please, I’m real, I used to be mannish My tongue flippin’ so fast you think that Hawk is speaking Spanish God damn it, can’t stand it, can’t handle it I ride and reside with the Draped and Dripped Bandit Properly demand it, out in many states While I’m doing shows I’m also movin’ weight Must demonstrate, never giving up hope I’m writing throwed lyrics and still moving my throat I met the Pope, while doing a serving NFL [??] gotta catch some Chris Berman Money earning, still yearning A punisher, a bruiser Got 20 inch blades on a black Land Cruiser Drug abuser, I take it straight to the head I support my own heritage shouldn’t shit be said Infrared I tote, always gonna smoke This is one fuckin’ nigga you should not provoke My horoscope read that I must cope Keep my head above the water try to stay afloat Cause I’m a big bad actor, big paper stacker Took the blades off the diesel and I put ‘em on the tractor Major factor in this rap game race And if you want some of me come on and get a taste [Interlude] Reason to rhyme, nigga All night long It pays, know what I’m saying? You wanna speak Ron? Let these niggas know streets ain’t nothing to play with It’s money off in this here thing, man But my reason to rhyme? [Verse 3: E.S.G.] Shit, my reason for crime, is only satisfaction I’m laid back, sippin’ drank, bout to hit that bud action (Uhhh) Trade in our MACs to get some brand new ones Don’t fuck with the fake, I only fuck with true ones Y’all can see us, big Benz, we probably be flossin’ Shorty Mac strapped with the MAC, that boy straight outta Austin I’m doin’ shows, fuckin’ hoes You know we’re down to ball Got one next month, yeah, probably Lake Charles I’m gonna wreck em, player, don’t give a fuck about them busters What about last month, hit the ring with Chris Tucker? Got crunk smokin’ on sticks, niggas down to drop them bricks Now these niggas talking that shit, but they still on my dick You wanna try-y, nigga? See y’all ain’t hearin’ me ‘Til the day I die, down with K-A-Y on lock for conspiracy So feel me, the E to the S, and we gon’ just blow up Shit, a nigga full of that drank so I gots to hold up Don’t wanna fall off that flow So me and Big Hawk bout to step out the door In case you didn’t know, we breaking boys off So niggas recognize, man, we ain’t never comin’ soft, nigga We always hard [Verse 4: Big Hawk] Sit back and watch me orchestrate Continue to dictate On those who violate, hate and perpetrate Sip barre, superstar, 20s on foreign car Too hard to figure out like algebra How far do you want me to take it? Smiles and frowns, talking down Saying I ain’t gon make it? But as hard as it seems, I’m accomplishing dreams Devising plots and schemes in order to increase my cream Triple beams, Pyrex, and warm water The cheese is harder, gon’ ‘head place your order A ounce and a quarter is all it takes to pay the bills And all of my orders change my thousands into mills, for real [Outro] We outtie Like 9000 For the 97 Ron, wassup?