[Chorus]
Represent yo hood,
represent yo block,
represent yo spot.
"Know what I'm saying?"
represent ya ward,
represent ya town because its goin down.
"Know what I'm talkin bout?"

[Bun B]
When you seee me with my gun on,
its a be a one on,
you know what type of shit Big Bun on.
Some of that six figure shit,
that live and die by the trigger shit,
that H-Town, P.A. Texas trill ass nigga shit.
want to fuck with me get a bigger clique,
move yay get a bigger brick,
want to fuck my gal get a bigger dick.
So do me a favor (favor),
recognize that you a hater,
that couldn't see me if i was ya neighbor.
Yeah Mike Jones and Swishahouse,
finna meet me at yo sista house,
tell het have that doja and them swishas out.
Nigga we gon set up shop in here,
let bottles pop in here,
and watch these bad ass bitches bop in here.
Shit midddle fingers up (and haters down),
we about that drama,
so if you don't want it bitch don't bring us up.
Man and we gonna be grinding,
nigga hugging this block,
till they free KS and let my brother off lock.

[Chorus]

[Mike Jones]
I sip on purple barre,
ride around town in my candy car,
diamonds shine like a star.
I love to grip that wood grain,
love to talk that Texas slang,
I spend change like it ain't no thing nigga.
Because down south we be tipping on fo's,
in the parking lot pimping these hoes,
its M.O.B. on every hoe nigga.
Down in H-Town we gripping on grain,
flipping on swings sipping that drank,
causing pain in the turning lane nigga.
(Holla at me) 281-330-8004
Hit Mike Jones up on the low (Yeah)
I said 281-330-8004
Hit Mike Jones up on the low (Yeah)

[Chorus]

[Lil Keke]
They better stop playing,
because we might slain,
somebody start praying man.
I'm bout to get it hot,
before i blow the spot,
give me some henn and rocks fool.
I'm bout to let it go,
I'm talking killa blow,
you watch yo chick you check ya bitch.
You niggas know its on,
we pushing plenty chrome,
this the Don me and Bun.
I fuck with Mike Jones,
broke niggas stay at home,
we off the hook like Cokka Book.
Big Texas where its at,
Y'all betta holla back,
we packing gats and smoking sacks.
Pimping these young hoes,
and my bank roll sits swoll,
got me tipping on fo fo's nigga.
I'm bout to smash up,
Y'all niggas given up,
You roll a square and po a cup.

[Chorus]

Writer : JONES, MIKE / FREEMAN, BERNARD / WILLIAMS, SALIH
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.