(Low-G)
Ghetto Soldier, I’m representin’ from that Houston
Second Ward, that be the place where I do my dirt
Kick in doors, sellin’ Dope, Only my God knows
I have to do what I have to do , just to stay alive
I lost a friend, but God blessed me with some real niggaz
Hell is soft, I kept it real from the fuckin’ start
I stay strapped, cause my neighborhood so dirty
I kiss my Grandma Goodbye, but my jefa looks so worried
Pitbulls from my tierra that I call my home
It aint much, but its something I can call my own
I go to war at any times, at any place
Why yo punk twelve gauge, all in your face
I want your jades, your jackets, and your jewelry
What the fuck you on my block, if you aint cool with me
You crossed the line, ain’t no time to press rewind
I caught you slippin’ cause I heard that you dropped a dime
On my perro, now he doin’ twenty-five to life
Low-G, now I got to earn another stripe
Ghetto Star Greyhound is my fuckin’ car
Ghetto Clothes, but I’m feeling like I’m ghetto far

Chorus

Don’t Disrespect my mind
Don’t Disrespect my Clika (8x)

(Baby Beesh)
Its like the realest shit you eva heard of
Money, Mac, and Mobbin’, Murda
Two Eleven, One Eight Seven
Dope Fiend and Curb Servas
Watchin’ to much Hollywood
Because he thought he could
Come up and disrespect the game, but now he’s ridin’ wood
Oh yea that funny shit
Jealous and Dummy shit
That shit from the birds to the bees,
when you thought pussy was runnin’ shit
dying over bitches and colors,
tell them all we really love ‘em
and then we go off and smotha’ each other on a daily basis
our block be on that cain
our block be on that map
my block be on that game
my block be on that death
muthafuckas claiming that they runnin’ shit its all wet
and you can tell them sorry sasqwets I said that
cause now a days its me and my economy
and if it aint about no bread playa don’t bother me
on top of ya’ll, I got the law on top of me
wanted for a robbery, cutting a fool’s artery
Chorus (8x)

(Baby Beesh)
A maggots gon’ be a maggot
Faggots gon’ be a faggot
But if they want some static
I got an automatic
This automatic, if I grab it
Sometimes its tragic
Causing havoc,
bullets blastin’,
but he had to have it
from starting racket
looked at the wounded and all the graphic
the game is graphic
and the classic
in and out of traffic
money stackin, by any means keep your gadget
and find a way to keep supporting my weed habit
I get my shit dirt cheap, the way I like it
You disrespect the clip, puto I get excited
My trigga finger get itchy, like I was lionel Ritchie
A commodore, wanna go to war
so get down so I can touch you quickly
No substitute for these thugs,
who love to shoot
and cut the loot
you fuckin punk, that’s why I don’t fuck with you
Cock Strong, pretty boy
But don’t get it twisted
A savage with this *@#$ want me to come and get it
Cause every blow has nothing but these bad intentions
So now you know baby bash, keeps it gut wrenchin’

Chorus (8x)

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