Screwed Up Click - Trae Tha Truth, H.A.W.K., Mr. 3-2

I’m bout to square it off, everybody better stay in they homes

Cus when I spit, I’m representin

I’m protected by chrome

My old G Hump done told me Trae it’s bout that time to explode

So everybody in my way better get the fuck off the road

I’m on the rampage and there ain’t gon be no cooling me off

Until I put it through a nigga disrespecting the south

I’m a guerilla out the click, and ain’t no taming me Plus they got me heated cus niggaz ain’t who they claim to be But still they claim to be the S.U.C.

and I ain’t feeling that

H-A Dub show me the sign so I can bring they hat and lay them flat

Across the concrete and that’ll show them what the business is Hit them with the hook and that’ll show them what my feelings is Copycats get a tat 'fore the mack in the Lac

Never slackin on the back of the track, I’m a fool that’s a fact

Then again I ain’t having that when it comes to flowing I’m sick

Bitch, give me 50 feet and hop the fuck off of my dick

All chumps get squashed by the Screwed Up Click

Certified gangstas ain’t takin no shit

Got everybody tryin’a steal our shit

Now give us 50 feet and get the fuck off our dick

Now give us 50 feet and get the fuck off our dick

You punk bitch, you criss switchas steal our shit

I’ma come down, I’ma come through

We came down and through since 1992

I’m a protege of Screw, one of the hardest ones

Put you on a cavilary and a dangerous tongue

I’m the mouthpiece of the Southeast, on weak niggaz high feast

Back back, gimme 50 feet, or I shall reach your piece

Better stay out of my reach, and stop stealing my lines

Niggaz singin my songs like old school nursery rhymes

Yall niggaz far behind, I can see you in my rear view

I can spit a punch line and smash your whole crew

Yall boys is boo-boo, and yall boys is so through

That shit yall do make a nigga boo-boo

I drive these niggaz cuckoo, really ricka voo-doo

Representin Screw-zoo like Lil’Flip and Bahdoo

All chumps get squashed by the Screwed Up Click

Certified gangstas ain’t takin no shit

Got everybody tryin’a steal our shit

Now give us 50 feet and get the fuck off our dick

Now boys wanna be me, walk in my shoes

They don’t fit, sound like the big boss of the Screwed Up Click

I’m dick, there ain’t but one Mr. 3−2

Playa, ass nigga that always stay true

Who is you?

Who is that tellin lies on the mic?

Better get your game together can’t come up overnight

I’ma write, get mine, puttin it in the stash

Once you have the last laugh with a whole lot of cash

Street game roll something depending one deep

Grindin it out but mothafuckers feel decieved

50 feet ain’t enough, I need a little more space

Take over, monopolize

All up, in your face

H-A dub and my nigga Lil’Trae

Ready for pistol play anytime, anyday

Okay, it ain’t a game all chumps get squashed

By the Screwed Up Click, and Mr. … Big Boss

All chumps get squashed by the Screwed Up Click

Certified gangstas ain’t takin no shit

Got everybody tryin’a steal our shit

Now give us 50 feet and get the fuck off our dick