Aaaah huh, right back up in ya
Platinum Soul, bend over or get rolled over
If you, ain't up on thangs
(Wreckshop is the click, Platinum Soul's the name)
And we, make beats that bang
(ain't a damn thang changed, still thoed in the game)
Now tell me what it do nigga, you got your ass on your shoulders
Peeping like the rollers, you niggaz can't hold us
I told ya, y'all don't wanna see a real soldier
Either roll with us, or you get rolled over
Thoed in the game, I flow for the change
It was just me shooting me in the foot, locked in chains
Body rock, I thank around the block still paid
But I'm focused, with a lil' mo' respect for the game
Check game, my mama and them in the projects
I gotta get her out, so getting paid's my only option
God protect a nigga off his game, stay strong
Tell myself only real thangs, smart change homes
Running, from my blood to my bones
Pines is on, won't put a nigga in a tombstone
Wrong, to push them pies
I'm not a role model, I ain't one of the good guys
I'm Goody-Gotti, out the Wreckshop Fam
Bout to be one of the greatest, swear I'm bout that Fam
Leave it or scram, I'll hit you with the tool
Off the most in the streets, know D-Gotti a fool
Hold up wait, Mr. fly guy
You ain't original why try, you pitiful
It's gonna take a miracle, to get you to the pinnacle
As long as you know, that we could never be identacle
It's obvious, why niggaz copy us
But then they coming with the sloppiest, so now I gotta put a stop to this
I'm dropping this
To put these mad rappers, and beat jackers away
I night I still pray, for the ones gone astray
You niggaz more drug than thugged, out occuring in your flow
So I'm pulling the plug out, remembering the game keep me doing my thang
And it's official, ain't nothing changed
We ride, we stepping and repping the Southside
No niggaz from outside, just Double D and thr guys
Keep my eyes on the prize, but I gotta remind ya
When you fucking with the click, we gon come out and find ya
On the mash, till the motherfucking cash come
Fuck a major deal, a nigga had to kill the last one
Power and greed, then pride times three
So Dirty did it like the Dirty 3, hurry back to the streets
Cause they know, how we do's it
Southside music, so they can't groove with this Wreckshop movement
Got boys on note, hooked on it like dope
Can't name a Houston rapper, that ain't stole at least one quote
From Laffeyette, to the A-T-X
From Dallas to New Orleans, we all in they deck
I raised you boys, paved the way for you boys
Don't check my coolness for no foolish, may Lil' J you boys
We train blocks, and tie em in a knot
We bring mo' heat to the streets, than a undercover cop
We what you need, what these other cats can't see
Can't be, so nigga just continue to floss me
Yes sir we buy, my squad go hard
Y'all don't want no problems, y'all don't even wanna start
None of y'all got heart, no bite all bark
Puddens get torn apart, big dogs run this yard
Yeah uh-huh, we still leading the pack
Hustlers love the way we made it, to the front from the back
Going hard for them stacks, man the Shop been thoed
The South still hold, if you hoes ain't know
Who me shit, it's that Mr. Dirty $
Original dickie boy, call me Jerry McGuire
Higher, and strictly bout this feddy
When it comes to fetching paper, my team stay ready
Willing and able, first major independent label
Go and get it, bring it back to the table
Gorillas for scrilla, and savages about cabbage
Cheetahs chasing cheddar, just not your average nigga
And I'm married to this thang, the game
But I garuntee before I go, y'all scream my name yeah
You got your ass on your shoulders, I wonder why
What you think you fly, motherfucker you think you better than I
I think's not, and niggaz ain't hot
Bring the heat to em, accapellas from freestyle shit
Just bring the beats to em, so many niggaz walking with they nose up
Is it cause we stealing bidness, or we done hit they hoes up
Huh I really don't know, but I ain't trying to figure out
Man my hustle ain't your hustle, cause I took a different route
Buddy but anyway, why you all up in my mix
That's why flies don't come around you, cause they know that you ain't shit
Bitch, you run with to ticks and fleas and roaches
So uh, get off my dick soon as you breathe you choking
Bitch, you on my phone you know you wrong
Just admit it, ain't nothing in the city seeing or hearing my committy
So deal with it, or you getting rolled over
Mr. Tyte E-Z, signing out like a soldier