Real motherfuckin’ H-Town shit (sippin’ on a four)
I’m from the Southside, you know how we ride
(Sippin’ on a four and I’m ja–, ja–, ja–)
(What Juicy say? He be like, “Shut the fuck up”)
Ayy, what’s up bitch? It’s Megan, and I’m from South Park
And if it’s ’bout some motherfuckin’ money we could talk (yeah)
Ayy, a lot of bitches hate me, and these niggas too
But when you gettin’ money, that’s what haters ‘posed to do (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Ayy, bitch, I’m out here shinin’, I’m really Houston’s finest (Houston’s finest)
I don’t know if he lookin’ at the titties or these diamonds (yeah, yeah, ah)
These hoes can’t stand me, niggas want my panties
And I threw thе “H” up when I brought home all them Grammys
Hundred K on my watch, yeah, thick, brown skin with thе long hair
Diamonds all on my G-string, but I’m still eatin’ at TP’s (mwah, mwah)
Used meet my tricks at Pappadeaux, hit the bar with all my hoes (all my hoes)
Take me to the gallery and tell that nigga to buy me those, ah
(Ooh-wee) trip creator, the inventor of the flavor
The “P” stand for “Pimpin’,” it don’t stand for “Pushin’ paper”
The pain is now or later, but the car Mercedes Benz
Nowadays, at Splashtown, there’s Maybachs on G10s
Fifteens and onion rings, cars laced like shoestrings
It’s a dream to drop the top and come down Luther King
We the reason why y’all diamond grills and ice chain medallions
This the city with no doctor needed, you might make a stallion
New Ferrari, it’s Italian, and a rapper paid for it
Comin’ down to H-Town, trickin’ off when he was bored
It’s ain’t shit I can’t afford, no deal, Rolls Royce
Quarter million diamond in my face, tears of joy
Lookin’ like a legend when I slide up gently
They askin’ for the king, nigga, tell ’em Blunt sent me
They waitin’ on the ‘Lac and not the one that’s black
I’m in the ’76 Hog, crawlin’ like a razorback
I caught your bitch lookin’, the wait paint gushin’
Shot the deuce and kept pushin’ on the double stitched cushion (yeah)
Special and spectacular, slab ridin’ ambassador
The Cutlass out here runnin’ like a Hellcat Challenger
Martin Luther master, Cullen Street captain
Top peeled back, all white like a napkin (yeah)
Runnin’ like a stallion, South side of town, call me Don Key, The Great (yeah)
Yeah, Mr. Cut Me Down
Die with me, ho, and I’m patrolling’ on the blacktop
Hands in and out my fuckin’ pockets, pullin’ racks out
Grabbin’ on the wheel, lookin’ backwards when I back out
Clique City, niggas get they bread and droppin’ ‘Lac tops
Exotic in the air, drinking clean, I’m in the turning lane
Glass house sittin’ up under the frame, that nigga murder gang
Tearin’ up the runway, serious when them Forgis slide
Trunk closed bangin’, nigga, it’s sounding like it’s war outside
When it’s money, we gon’ wake up and go run it down
In the trenches lurkin’ for that sack, I’ma go hunt it down
They ask me why I do it? Hoe, I do it for the H
T-E-X-A-S, this for the state, nigga, Crock Bull
H-Town, Splashtown
The most copied and underappreciated city in the game, man
You know it take ten female artist to make a Megan Thee Stallion
And it’s a nigga wannabe Sauce Walker in every record label in America
Every rapper puttin’ “Drip” and “Splash” in they song
Y’all know where y’all get that drip from
But we been draped and dripped out since three in the morning
Lil Keke, you know what I’m sayin’? You spill me?
Keep our name out y’all mouth like Puffy said, you spill me?
Yeah, everybody wanna have double cups
Everybody wanna have a big booty cutie on duty, double-cup polluted
Stupid, you spill me?
We the ones got y’all on that anime
Y’all wasn’t talkin’ ’bout no Dragon Ball Z, My Hero Academia, none of that Tsuyu Asui
Yeah, we got y’all talkin’ ’bout some business this, business that
Know what I’m sayin’? This new Houston
But we gon’ keep drippin’ on and keep pimpin’ on, y’all gon’ keep sippin’ on
Yeah, this the city of the hot girls and the cold players
You spill me, P? Huh
Yeah, we cold-hearted out here, P, and the baby girls hot-headed, ooh-wee
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