Clifford T Ward - Easy, Ba lyrics

Oh no, there go them Texas boys banging in a fo' do'

Top fell out the drop, crawling on 84's

Think of taking my slab, baby I don't think so

My heat under my seat, and I don't love you hoes

Living it like a G, but still I gotta lay low

Five percent or ten, but still my screens gon glow

These haters be in my mix, and these boppers be on my dick

Everytime I come round the corner

I'm from the land of opportunity, in God we trust

But haters in my mix, got me paranoid and disgust

I'm scoping out my side mirrors, when my car's in park

It's after dark, and my slab is fresh meat to these sharks

Boys thinking I been drinking, so I'm off my note

But I got seventeen surprises, tucked inside of my coat

See me strut through the parking lot, on 22's plus

It's a must I make all haters, eat my dust

Them jump-out boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping

I ain't tripping, grain ain't the only thing that I'm gripping

Boys jacking with these tow trucks, thinking they slick

But take a trip to South Lee, and end up in a ditch

They got my purple people eater once, the next day

I bought a Range Rover cash, and a new set of fronts

I've been on feet for months, I'm taking haters to lunch

Paul Wall and Trae, hit em with that one-two punch

When I flip in my slab

I'm fin to beat they back off, like I was legs

Sitting low and tinted on chrome, gangstafied till I'm finished

I'm bout to diminish these haters, when my trunk start waving

Blue over gray, side of my drop with six T.V.'s I'm displaying

They hate that I'm shining, with the fifth wheel falling flying down the block

But if one of these haters, wanna jack me

Slugs gon be flying, out the glock

I click for no reason, this season my slab is staining they brain

And I be known for getting reckless in Texas, gripping on grain

Forever be pimping, 84 tipping all through the South

Grilling boppers all through my tint, with diamonds all in my mouth

They all in my mouth, looking stupid when I burn right past em

Cause some of these broads be living shife, and setting up for the jacking

But not today, cause Trae gon be flipping on top of his game

We guerillas I'm mobbing with, ain't no stopping me mayn

When I'm in my fo' do' solo, the slab is bound to get tossed

And if you trying to be competition, then you bound to be getting lost

Make way for the team, when the fo' do' be coming round the corner

These haters are goners, cause I'ma drop the top when I wanna

I know these jackers, better think before they reach out and touch

Cause in back of the car is the Excursion, full of thugs that'll punch

I know they wanted to get me, but they don't know what I'm bringing

I pop the trunk and swing the block, while jamming Slow Loud And Bangin'

Trae and Paul Wall on a mission, and ain't no stopping it mayn

With my hand on my heat in my seat, and the other on grain

Mo' money mo' problems mayn, the legend is true

You better stay up on your toes, when you ride 22's

I'm rolling strapped, everywhere I go I'm watching my back

Cause on my block, them jackers don't give a damn if I rap

People see me being friendly, and they think that I'm soft

But the truth is, my best friend is a sawed off

These haters in my mix, got me losing composure

But if they take one step closer, it ain't gon be kosher naw