Short Texas lyrics

by

UGK


[Verse 1: Bun B]
Ay yo, welcome to the world of S-H-O-R-T
Texas where them trill ass n*ggas be livin naughty
Rollin' up ho's like turtles in half a shell
Open up my trunk and let's see what I have to sell
I got the dope, if you ho's got the paper
And if you a faker then you'll meet your f*ckin maker
'Cause I ain't takin no sh*t on my guts
The UGK posse got the big big nuts
Yo, so who's a bold b*tch?
Try to make a sale, You betta bail before they find you in a ditch
This dope ain't yo dope and these cuts ain't yo cuts
Yo, but this is my 12 Gauge in your muthaf*ckin guts
Don't make me pump this b*tch and unload
Beat your feet muthaf*cka, hit the muthaf*ckin road
And don't even try to come back n*gga, yo
'Cause me Dre and C got fingers on a fat trigger
We making too much money moving weight
And before you hit my cuts, you better get your sh*t straight
'Cause it ain't safe to just try and show your ass up
Street sweeper booming cold blow your ass up
And ain't nobody scared to blast
We pull them triggers fast
And then we bailing on your b*tch ass
But if your sh*t is legit, then you can join my crew
U.S.T. graduating class of '92 in Short Texas
[Verse 2: Blue Light]
n*ggas on the track dropping sh*t about T-X
As long as there's fiends that's them tax-free dope checks
Young muthaf*ckas at the age of 16
Cooking up some yayo for the local drug king
The market's not open so they call it closed circuit
Short Short Texas watch them hard thugs work it
5-0's on the scene make the all time drug bust
Out next week slangin some more white dust
Real, oh so trill, the life's no glamour
At the end of my time is spent in the slammer
f*ckin up sh*t with the 9-inch chrome
So all you scary got-it-good young-ass b*tches stay home
And if you get picked up by the laws
Don't cry 'cause it's for a lost cause
Clientele, ounce of yayo, in jail make bail
From longs to short, it's constant dope sales
Stupid muthaf*ckas smoking dummies and noids in jail
On U.S.T., Crack University
Home of the Fightin Fiends, the streets reimburse me
Cops finding my stash, yo what could the worst be
Through so going undercover then turnin dirty
b*tch, I'm dead and swole in a ditch
Just the other day, a fiend in your Lexus
Calling my name Blue Light, I'm Short Texas
[Verse 3: Pimp C]
I don't give a f*ck who you be!
You ain't bout to sell no f*ckin dope in P.A.T
You could be Tony Montana in this b*tch
Have a boatload of dope, but you still ain't selling sh*t
'Cause we don't know your face so I don't really figure
We gon let you come up and sell dope in Texas n*gga
See you don't understand, it's our muthaf*ckin cuts
So step in, like I said before, we'll take them muthaf*ckin nuts
Ask the last n*gga brought his f*ckin ass down
Trying to sell that f*ckin dope he bought in H-Town
Couldn't sell in Houston, so I guess he figured
I'ma go to Port Arthur and run them f*ckin n*ggas
Brought his f*ckin gun, guess he should've bust
So they took his sh*t and put his di*k in the dust
Stupid ass n*gga had the nerve to come back
Rolling on the cuts in his white Cadillac
Got to the block and the guns just exploded
Shot his car up with the 9, and the clip that he unloaded
Sent the n*gga home to his momma like a hoe
They jacked all his money and they stole all his dope
Can't be trill in the villa of the trillest
'Cause where I'm from, n*gga, has some muthaf*ckin killers
So have your sh*t attached, before you come check us
Pimp C, b*tch, P.A. home, Short Texas
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