City Lights (feat. Bun B) [Explicit]

I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights

Tore up every city, I get tore up under city lights

I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights

Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights

Yo, I'm rolling in my ride, my eyes real chinky

Hit 145, buy like 12 twinkies

Today a good day, I know, don't jinx it

I 'will' keep a 'smith', just like Jada Pinkett

Baby, without blinking, I do it my way

I shit on folks, the opposite of R. K

I'm rude, pardon me, I'm too hood

Doc on your mind all the time, like New E.R.A

Who am I? That **** too fly

My mama gave birth on Continental Airlines

I ain't lying, I'm back, boy, you hit the backboard

I'm all swish, make a memo on your blackboard

This class here, ****, is for the underground

UGK, Doc and Meth, locking the summer down

And I ain't playing games, homie so get it right

Cuz I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights

I dropped in '95, now I'm on 95

South in the Dirty, been "Ridin Dirty" since Dirty died

I gets it early, my ****, heard me, I'm certified

And when I ride, I'm with Reggie Noble, New Jersey Drive

I make it happen, homie I take you back when I was wearing ponies

And them older **** was snapping on me

How many rappers know me? I know what cash own

Face it, this game I take it, in holy matrimony

And now can't nothing hold me, I fucks with UGK

Some dudes is more like Kobe, I'm more like Rudy Ray

You either in it pimping, or you just in the way

I love this life that I'm living, your shit can end today

Two things to know about me, I guess I'll never change

And keep this money like Southern Cali, it never rains

And I ain't playing games wit ya, so get it right

And I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights

Yeah, UGK for life R.I.P. to the Pimp

Miss you bro

This for you bankroll

Well the king of the trill is up in this bitch

Drop the top, but I hit the switch

You see my leather seats tucked and stitched

Texas, ****, we getting rich

Fuck a hater, man, fuck a snitch

G-Code ****, we don't love the po-po

No more swag, now pass the dough dough

We keep it super tight like pants in SoHo

I'm bout my dough, ho, so don't play with my bread

Man, I be trying to stop the violence nowadays so it's dead

I'm popping that trunk and grabbing that chopper, putting that K to ya head

I'd rather be laying up in the bed with your baby and may getting head

Yeah, my Cadillac car is candy painted, dripping like Bernadette

My steering wheel is woodgrain, I grip it and turn it quick

I'm riding bowls, black with yellow stripes, like a Steeler

And as far as the rims go, I'm an 84 dealer

A SLAB peeler when I mash out in the Caddy

Lean it back up on the leather, man, and smoking on a fatty

This UGK 4 Life, if you ain't know you better get it right

Why, 'I get tore, I get tore up' under city lights

UGK, Redman, Method Man, in the fucking building, bitch