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(feat. H.A.W.K., Mr. 3-2) [Verse One: Trae] 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 [Chorus x2: H.A.W.K.] 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 Songtexte [Verse Two: H.A.W.K.] 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 [Chorus x2: H.A.W.K.] 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 [Verse Three: Mr. 3-2] 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 [Chorus x2: H.A.W.K.] 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 Aus Songtexte Mania