Tonart: F minor•
Verse 1
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Fell in love with a Cadillac
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like
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a acrobat
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Broke up with my foreign
Verse 2
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car
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And fell in love
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Trunk turn flip, like a acrobat
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I woke
Verse 3
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up, thinking foreign car
But the Cadillac
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Got a nigga sitting in a daze
24's hittin switches,
Trae flipping through the hood
Like I'm running through a maze
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Find me trunk up, with the top back
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One deep in the front,
two freaks in the back
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Haters mad at me, cause
I'm MVP stats
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Better give me fifty feet
Cause I'm good with the gat
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Like I'm good with the hands
15's banging,
like I'm battle of the bands
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New Benz like send, they
And the trunk read Trae
So they know that I'm the man
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Me Paul Wall, in a slab out of Texas
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In a Cadillac, had to get rid of the Lexus
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Rather be gangsta, tipping on something
With something in the clip
That'll get rid of the plexing
Verse 4
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I fell in love, with my Coupe DeVille
It's on a switch,
it's the truth for real
Scraping the back down
These Southwest streets
Got a few teeth in the grill, loose for real
Big pumps,
two to the front one to the back
One wheel in the air, gliding like that
Three O- 7, rebuilt without chrome
Hundred spoke Daytons, with the
Next week
I'm in some'ing from the
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Lowrider book
I'mma show these motherfuckers
How a lowrider look hit a
Will get your lowrider took
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In '98, I use to be the lowrider crook
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Fleetwoods, El- Dogs Sedan DeVilles
always equipped with handy steel
and got em standing still
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Wondering when I'm gon land and chill
Interlude 1
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Verse 5
focused,
always smoking
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Presidential kushing, always choking
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Nig ga I drank up, all your purple
If I find out, that shit be potent
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Mayn I get high, fuck that shit
here, sucking my dick
me, that child support
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I'm a pimp out here,
trying to make it rich
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If you really wanna get high, let me know
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I'll tell CB, let you hit that blow
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We can ride in the Cadillac
Way in the fucking back
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Hitting all the spots, just hogging that ho
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Then take a lot of freaks,
to the Hotel room
you can hear that boom
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Mayn I'mma pop bout, two three X
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And drop my drawas, and
take this chewing
Verse 6
we snort that blow
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Turn around mayn, and whip our hoes
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Take me big gulp, full of that drank
Now I'm high, don't know what to think
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First I had em beating fast
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Now I got em knocking slow
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Sniff a lil' mo' of this sip
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Even down the middle whoa
Closed up my foreign do's
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Opened up my American
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do's
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84's and 20 inch vogues
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Chandillere, hanging from the top
Fish tank, lit up in the glass box
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But I had to put, the toy fish in it
Cause the real ones died
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From the kick box bitch
Interlude 2
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Verse 7
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Jay'Ton, pull up in a Lac cocked up
22 inch chrome, bags popped up
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Diamonds in our mouth, cash stocked up
Ice game six,
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so the game locked up
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9- 4 Fleetwood, headlights on
Fifth let back, but the trunk moved on
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Flying through the hood
With the six 12's on
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Seal in the groove, super kush to the dome
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19 in the game, only love for my Lac
Never loving a dame, swang to the left
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When I'm hulling the frame
Trying to take mine
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You'll be hugging a stain
Like I'm hugging the lane
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Screw tape still on, drank in my cup
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Everytime, that I roam
Roach ass hoes,
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still calling my phone
Representing for the South,
Verse 8
24 inch black, Fleetwood glider
They love the way the drop sit wider
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Lord knows haters mad
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When the left fly by ya
Call it what you want
But the Lac stay way liver
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Boppers all on my dick,
with the trunk up
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Beating up the Boulevard
With the beat pumped up
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Hit a switch on the remote,
the front jump up
Roam that'll get you lumped up
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Hopping out looking like do's
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Got threw on backwards
Throwed wardrobe,
by my bed son of a bastard
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When it come to Cadillacs
Trae got that mastered
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And the game that I got,
way flyer than NASA
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Representing for the drank sippers
Iced out grills, and the wood grain
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grippers
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84 swangs, and the late night tippers
Riding for the hood,
Cadillac tight whippers
Verse 9
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I got that candy red, with extra gloss
Heads turn, when they see me floss
Scooped up Trae, on a sunny day
Holla at Jay'Ton, and my boy Lil' Boss
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Trunk to stay popping,
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and hoes stay bopping
Cause the swangas poking
And the blades stay chopping
Beat the case, but the FEDs still watching
In the Fed- Ex truck
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Right down the street plotting
Dropped the top, if the sun on shine
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Sipping on some potent, puffing on pine
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Slow Loud And Bangin',
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in a candy slab line
Down here in H Town, it go down
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Old school Chevies, and throwback
Swangas and vogues, with
a trunk that crack
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down here in the 3rd Coast
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Houston Texas, at the bottom of the map baby
Outro 1
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