Tonalità: F minor
Verse 1
C
Em
Fell in love with a Cadillac
C
Trunk turn flip,
Em
like
C
Em
a acrobat
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Broke up with my foreign
Verse 2
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car
Em
C
Em
And fell in love
Em
a Cadillac -
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Em
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Trunk turn flip, like a acrobat
Em
I woke
Verse 3
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up, thinking foreign car
But the Cadillac
Em
Got a nigga sitting in a daze
24's hittin switches,
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sitting sideways
Trae flipping through the hood
Like I'm running through a maze
Em
Find me trunk up, with the top back
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One deep in the front,
two freaks in the back
Em
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
Em
Good with the track
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Like I'm good with the hands
15's banging,
like I'm battle of the bands
Em
New Benz like send, they
C
run up out of grand
And the trunk read Trae
So they know that I'm the man
Em
C
Me Paul Wall, in a slab out of Texas
Em
In a Cadillac, had to get rid of the Lexus
C
Rather be gangsta, tipping on something
With something in the clip
That'll get rid of the plexing
Verse 4
C
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
Em
two prones
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
Em
switch on Boss
Will get your lowrider took
C
In '98, I use to be the lowrider crook
Em
Fleetwoods, El- Dogs Sedan DeVilles
always equipped with handy steel
Em
Cocked up on three,
and got em standing still
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I'm in the attic
Em
Wondering when I'm gon land and chill
Interlude 1
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I'm never staying
Verse 5
focused,
always smoking
C
Presidential kushing, always choking
Em
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Nig ga I drank up, all your purple
If I find out, that shit be potent
Em
Mayn I get high, fuck that shit
C
Your baby mama out
here, sucking my dick
Em
I'mma make her pay
me, that child support
C
I'm a pimp out here,
trying to make it rich
Em
If you really wanna get high, let me know
C
I'll tell CB, let you hit that blow
Em
We can ride in the Cadillac
Way in the fucking back
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Hitting all the spots, just hogging that ho
Em
Then take a lot of freaks,
to the Hotel room
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System on blast,
you can hear that boom
Em
Mayn I'mma pop bout, two three X
C
And drop my drawas, and
take this chewing
Em
See in that M Town,
Verse 6
we snort that blow
C
Turn around mayn, and whip our hoes
Em
C
Take me big gulp, full of that drank
Now I'm high, don't know what to think
Em
First I had em beating fast
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Now I got em knocking slow
Em
Sniff a lil' mo' of this sip
C
A lil' mo' of that
Em
Even down the middle whoa
Closed up my foreign do's
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Opened up my American
Em
do's
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'72 Sedan DeVille,
Em
84's and 20 inch vogues
C
Chandillere, hanging from the top
Fish tank, lit up in the glass box
Em
C
But I had to put, the toy fish in it
Cause the real ones died
Em
From the kick box bitch
Interlude 2
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Verse 7
C
Jay'Ton, pull up in a Lac cocked up
22 inch chrome, bags popped up
Em
C
Diamonds in our mouth, cash stocked up
Ice game six,
Em
so the game locked up
C
9- 4 Fleetwood, headlights on
Fifth let back, but the trunk moved on
Em
Flying through the hood
With the six 12's on
C
Seal in the groove, super kush to the dome
Em
C
19 in the game, only love for my Lac
Never loving a dame, swang to the left
Em
When I'm hulling the frame
Trying to take mine
C
You'll be hugging a stain
Like I'm hugging the lane
Em
Screw tape still on, drank in my cup
C
Everytime, that I roam
Roach ass hoes,
Em
still calling my phone
Representing for the South,
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H Town is my home
Verse 8
24 inch black, Fleetwood glider
C
Tipping the block
They love the way the drop sit wider
Em
Lord knows haters mad
C
When the left fly by ya
Call it what you want
But the Lac stay way liver
Em
Boppers all on my dick,
with the trunk up
C
Beating up the Boulevard
With the beat pumped up
Em
Hit a switch on the remote,
the front jump up
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Run up on the slab
Roam that'll get you lumped up
Em
Hopping out looking like do's
C
Got threw on backwards
Throwed wardrobe,
by my bed son of a bastard
Em
When it come to Cadillacs
Trae got that mastered
C
And the game that I got,
way flyer than NASA
Em
Me and Three 6
C
Representing for the drank sippers
Iced out grills, and the wood grain
Em
grippers
C
84 swangs, and the late night tippers
Riding for the hood,
Cadillac tight whippers
Verse 9
C
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
Em
Trunk to stay popping,
C
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
Em
Right down the street plotting
Dropped the top, if the sun on shine
C
Sipping on some potent, puffing on pine
Em
Slow Loud And Bangin',
C
in a candy slab line
Down here in H Town, it go down
Em
Old school Chevies, and throwback
Swangas and vogues, with
a trunk that crack
Em
This how it goes,
C
down here in the 3rd Coast
Em
Houston Texas, at the bottom of the map baby
Outro 1
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4.9
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