Cut Song Freestyle lyrics

by

Paul Wall


[Verse 1: Paul Wall]
What it do, It’s Paul Wallaby in a Denali
I ride on deep dishes, I’m an expert in pottery
When I close my mouth, it’s a blackout
More throwed than an old man that throw his back out
Time to take the trash out, so you comin’ with me
Conceited, c*cky and confident, I’m one of the three
Damn, Paul Wall, you acting like a son of a b
I be running my mouth like my tongue got a knee
When I’m on the Southlea, I got a partner named Black
Don’t play defence, but in my pants, I got a sack
I’m a spoiled brat, so throwed that I’m throwing a fit
I ain’t gotta fight, ‘cause Lew Hawk done swollen your lip
I done – swung through Sterling, scooped up Emmanuel
Holla at my sister Anne teachin' out in Channelview
Damn, Gooyu done dipnapped my dip
Serena Williams done packed up her ish and jumped ship
Catch me at a frat party up in UT Austin
Excuse me, Lisa Ray, do you come here often?
I’m not in the marines, but I wear tech marine
Shout out to that boy Lil Hennessy and Kaleen
Junior put me down with a Color Changin’ tattoo
God bless me, even when I don’t at’choo
I’m baboulus

[Verse 2: Lew Hawk]
Hang up your saddle baby, it’s time to ride
Lew Hawk’s a go getter, heavy on the grind
I’m spittin’ more game than a psychic hotline
Trunk hit so hard, I disconnected the headlights
The rocks in my grill cooler than a Coors Light
It’s the Lew Hawk, duffle bags with top flight
Them boys in Westend moving bricks through the heights
Never can let my game slack up
If boxing don’t work, chopper got my back up
Color Changin’ soldiers always stay strapped and ready
Living life fast like Mario Andretti
All about my fetty, definitely ‘bout my paper
Put a down payment on a Platinum Navigator
Cash in my safe, feeling [?]
Ridin' the stretch Lincoln with Paul Wallpaper
Shakin' bike laws with my Perry Ellis 6
Like a ceiling factory, I ain’t movin’ nothin' but bricks
Representing that dirty 3rd, and that hustler’s academy
Running through more green than Andre Agassi
The clarity, my ice, my diamonds, gigantic
You couldn’t have more ice if you froze the Atlantic
Panic when you see the barrel of my damn popper
Might skydive in a Mercedes helicopter
Moving heavy weight down the Texas panhandle
Every pot hole, that’s ‘cause I’m too hot to handle
Whoa
[Verse 3: Chamillionaire]
It’s the wizard man
Once upon a time on my rollie
I’m in line at Foley's
My wrist shining like it’s holy, a designer told me
It must be a fairy tale the way my ice is so bright
Without the seven dwarves, my ice whiter than snow white
No – I can’t fly, but I’m flyer than Peter Pan
As soon as she see the hand, she cheaty-chea-cheat again
Peter Piper can pick a pepper, but I’ll pick your heffer
Up in a pick up truck with big [?] to get ya
Then you tell us you’re not you when you’re jealous
I pick your Cinderellas up on thin propellors
I’ma make her take a fall, then her glass slip up ‘cause that
n*gga Chamill’ will unzip that zipper
Oh man, my dope can make a hoe hand
Favor Frosty the snowman
Oh man, never met a girl that for sure can
Make me c*m from a whole gram
While you tricking and licking kitten, I’m flipping and getting rich
And then pulling more wet cat than a fisherman fish
Not catfish, not Little Red Riding Hood
Not rotten in the suburbs, I ride in hoods
Neon lights glowin up under the rising hood
So you probably won’t rob me like Robin Hood
No fairy tale man, Koopa’s in the Lexus, man
More green than a Grinch eating green eggs and ham
Even three blind mice can see that I got cheese
Like gangstas, god and grumpy, I got G’s
I get wet under the rainer
Like a African on a swing, I’m a foreign swanger
The End
[Outro: Chamillionaire]
And the moral of the story is
Get your mind correct, coming soon
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