| 作曲 : Slayton, Tuck | |
| (feat. Paul Wall) | |
| (talking:) | |
| Ay what's up mayn, this your boy Big Tuck | |
| Ad-Tuck-Hitler, Hurricane Tuck and Paul Wall | |
| This what I want my dope boys to do | |
| I know we got a lot of dope boys out there | |
| Everybody know, we got money down here | |
| We gon put the new shit up, and we gon jump in a old school Lac | |
| And we gon dip on these hoes, g'eah-g'eah | |
| (Big Tuck:) | |
| I swear, I'm the freshest nigga moving | |
| GT roof down, cruising | |
| Gucci loc's on, peeping bitches choosing | |
| Tispy on the dance floor, grooving | |
| Seeing niggaz hating, cause I'm shining | |
| Got money in my pockets, I don't mind em | |
| Yeah nigga, peep this watch | |
| Peep this chain, my shine don't stop | |
| I'm dope man fresh | |
| The J's on point, heavy crease the Guess | |
| The chain on the chest, hoes obsessed | |
| They finally get to meet, the Big Tuck in the flesh | |
| She's watching, I know that I got her | |
| Three karat studs in the ear, she know I'm a rider | |
| And, it's just like that | |
| The Benz in the garage, I'm bout to jump in the Lac | |
| (Hook: x2) | |
| Dipping in the Lac, with the do's rose up | |
| Hoe-hoes froze up, cause the do's rose up | |
| Ho-ho-hopping out the Lac, and the chain froze up | |
| Rose gold up, rose-rose gold up | |
| (Paul Wall:) | |
| Pull up to the club, bout twelve cars deep | |
| All dripping candy paint, with some glassy ass feet | |
| I keep the trunk waving, and that dro stay blazing | |
| With the nine tucked tightly, at them haters misbehaving | |
| I'm a hard hitter like Greg Blue, setting trends and squashing noise | |
| Pulling up in some candy toys, strutting the parking lot with poise | |
| You see them karats on my wrist, and all around my neck | |
| With nothing less than flawless diamonds mayn, what you expect | |
| I got a lot of charms, I got a lot of chains | |
| I got a lot of grills, and nan one of em look the same | |
| Swang and bang in my candy car, boppers wanna know who we are | |
| Street veterans and mic wreckers, we certified young ghetto stars | |
| Popping bottles that's just for fun, popping trunk that's in my blood | |
| Candy paint might cause a flood, please don't spill my cup of mud | |
| You know we stay balling, cause we keep grinding for that bread | |
| Swishahouse it's Paul Wall, and I'm G-Boy fresh until I'm dead | |
| (Hook x2) | |
| (Big Tuck:) | |
| I'm dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Chain on the chest, I'm dope man fresh | |
| Dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Hopping out the Lac, staying dope man fresh - 2x | |
| I'm a certified, wood gripper | |
| I'm a old school, candy paint Lac flipper | |
| Got the bang on, and the screens lit | |
| Got the dro going, satellite kit | |
| What you know, about the mink guts | |
| And the motor, that'll drag race a school bus | |
| Just, got the paint job touched up | |
| On the freeway, riding with them do's up | |
| (Hook x2) |
| zuo qu : Slayton, Tuck | |
| feat. Paul Wall | |
| talking: | |
| Ay what' s up mayn, this your boy Big Tuck | |
| AdTuckHitler, Hurricane Tuck and Paul Wall | |
| This what I want my dope boys to do | |
| I know we got a lot of dope boys out there | |
| Everybody know, we got money down here | |
| We gon put the new shit up, and we gon jump in a old school Lac | |
| And we gon dip on these hoes, g' eahg' eah | |
| Big Tuck: | |
| I swear, I' m the freshest nigga moving | |
| GT roof down, cruising | |
| Gucci loc' s on, peeping bitches choosing | |
| Tispy on the dance floor, grooving | |
| Seeing niggaz hating, cause I' m shining | |
| Got money in my pockets, I don' t mind em | |
| Yeah nigga, peep this watch | |
| Peep this chain, my shine don' t stop | |
| I' m dope man fresh | |
| The J' s on point, heavy crease the Guess | |
| The chain on the chest, hoes obsessed | |
| They finally get to meet, the Big Tuck in the flesh | |
| She' s watching, I know that I got her | |
| Three karat studs in the ear, she know I' m a rider | |
| And, it' s just like that | |
| The Benz in the garage, I' m bout to jump in the Lac | |
| Hook: x2 | |
| Dipping in the Lac, with the do' s rose up | |
| Hoehoes froze up, cause the do' s rose up | |
| Hohohopping out the Lac, and the chain froze up | |
| Rose gold up, roserose gold up | |
| Paul Wall: | |
| Pull up to the club, bout twelve cars deep | |
| All dripping candy paint, with some glassy ass feet | |
| I keep the trunk waving, and that dro stay blazing | |
| With the nine tucked tightly, at them haters misbehaving | |
| I' m a hard hitter like Greg Blue, setting trends and squashing noise | |
| Pulling up in some candy toys, strutting the parking lot with poise | |
| You see them karats on my wrist, and all around my neck | |
| With nothing less than flawless diamonds mayn, what you expect | |
| I got a lot of charms, I got a lot of chains | |
| I got a lot of grills, and nan one of em look the same | |
| Swang and bang in my candy car, boppers wanna know who we are | |
| Street veterans and mic wreckers, we certified young ghetto stars | |
| Popping bottles that' s just for fun, popping trunk that' s in my blood | |
| Candy paint might cause a flood, please don' t spill my cup of mud | |
| You know we stay balling, cause we keep grinding for that bread | |
| Swishahouse it' s Paul Wall, and I' m GBoy fresh until I' m dead | |
| Hook x2 | |
| Big Tuck: | |
| I' m dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Chain on the chest, I' m dope man fresh | |
| Dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Hopping out the Lac, staying dope man fresh 2x | |
| I' m a certified, wood gripper | |
| I' m a old school, candy paint Lac flipper | |
| Got the bang on, and the screens lit | |
| Got the dro going, satellite kit | |
| What you know, about the mink guts | |
| And the motor, that' ll drag race a school bus | |
| Just, got the paint job touched up | |
| On the freeway, riding with them do' s up | |
| Hook x2 |
| zuò qǔ : Slayton, Tuck | |
| feat. Paul Wall | |
| talking: | |
| Ay what' s up mayn, this your boy Big Tuck | |
| AdTuckHitler, Hurricane Tuck and Paul Wall | |
| This what I want my dope boys to do | |
| I know we got a lot of dope boys out there | |
| Everybody know, we got money down here | |
| We gon put the new shit up, and we gon jump in a old school Lac | |
| And we gon dip on these hoes, g' eahg' eah | |
| Big Tuck: | |
| I swear, I' m the freshest nigga moving | |
| GT roof down, cruising | |
| Gucci loc' s on, peeping bitches choosing | |
| Tispy on the dance floor, grooving | |
| Seeing niggaz hating, cause I' m shining | |
| Got money in my pockets, I don' t mind em | |
| Yeah nigga, peep this watch | |
| Peep this chain, my shine don' t stop | |
| I' m dope man fresh | |
| The J' s on point, heavy crease the Guess | |
| The chain on the chest, hoes obsessed | |
| They finally get to meet, the Big Tuck in the flesh | |
| She' s watching, I know that I got her | |
| Three karat studs in the ear, she know I' m a rider | |
| And, it' s just like that | |
| The Benz in the garage, I' m bout to jump in the Lac | |
| Hook: x2 | |
| Dipping in the Lac, with the do' s rose up | |
| Hoehoes froze up, cause the do' s rose up | |
| Hohohopping out the Lac, and the chain froze up | |
| Rose gold up, roserose gold up | |
| Paul Wall: | |
| Pull up to the club, bout twelve cars deep | |
| All dripping candy paint, with some glassy ass feet | |
| I keep the trunk waving, and that dro stay blazing | |
| With the nine tucked tightly, at them haters misbehaving | |
| I' m a hard hitter like Greg Blue, setting trends and squashing noise | |
| Pulling up in some candy toys, strutting the parking lot with poise | |
| You see them karats on my wrist, and all around my neck | |
| With nothing less than flawless diamonds mayn, what you expect | |
| I got a lot of charms, I got a lot of chains | |
| I got a lot of grills, and nan one of em look the same | |
| Swang and bang in my candy car, boppers wanna know who we are | |
| Street veterans and mic wreckers, we certified young ghetto stars | |
| Popping bottles that' s just for fun, popping trunk that' s in my blood | |
| Candy paint might cause a flood, please don' t spill my cup of mud | |
| You know we stay balling, cause we keep grinding for that bread | |
| Swishahouse it' s Paul Wall, and I' m GBoy fresh until I' m dead | |
| Hook x2 | |
| Big Tuck: | |
| I' m dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Chain on the chest, I' m dope man fresh | |
| Dope man fresh, dope man fresh | |
| Hopping out the Lac, staying dope man fresh 2x | |
| I' m a certified, wood gripper | |
| I' m a old school, candy paint Lac flipper | |
| Got the bang on, and the screens lit | |
| Got the dro going, satellite kit | |
| What you know, about the mink guts | |
| And the motor, that' ll drag race a school bus | |
| Just, got the paint job touched up | |
| On the freeway, riding with them do' s up | |
| Hook x2 |
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