Presidential Flow Lyrics - Singles - Boss Hogg Outlawz

[Intro - Slim Thug] 

Yeah, Slim Thugger 

Killa Kyleon 

C. Ward 

PJ, Daily 

We the boys in blue 

[Slim Thug] 

Yeah we stacking that green, naw mean? 

Big Boss and that Outlaw team 

Pulling up clean, blue with the screens 

Niggas ain't seen, another crew this mean 

Take it back to the North, back with the Boss 

Been wrecking decks, since back at the house 

Haters disrespect, getting smacked in the mouth 

Niggas play hard, but they acting they soft 

How we ride? With the steel 

Fuck with us, and you going to get killed 

From the land of the trill, yeah we represent the Tex' 

Don't bar plex, come playing get checked 

Get your hoe ass wrecked, trying to bring it to the Boss 

I'll get your ass done, it don't matter what it cost 

We floss that blue, do it for the crew 

Old school Caddy, or the new slabs too 

Paul Wall what it do? Who Mike Jones? 

Boys mad at us, because we getting our shine on 

Put it in they face, put them in they place 

Got to let them know, who the leaders of the race 

Boss Hogg Outlawz, stacking that change 

Jackers be aware, we packing that thing 

Run your ass up, and I'ma rat-a-tat mane 

I ain't playing no games, I'ma aim for the brain 

[PJ] 

It's PJ, the rap hustler 

Going off, on these player hating suckers 

I'm from the North, side of town 

Boys about it over here, we on the grind 

I came up, it feel good 

Ain't a damn thing changed, I'm still hood 

Boss Hogg, Outlawz 

Fake niggas put your back against the wall 

Doing shows, pimping hoes 

Pulling out, on a glass set of 4's 

What we ride? That blue 

What we bang? That screw 

Big piece, full of ice 

Boyz in Blue, nothing nice 

I go off, I go hard 

It's whatever, whatever, I don't bar 

[Sir Daily] 

Here come Daily, in that wide frame thing 

Sliding down the block, with a fine dime mane 

Times ain't changed, so these chickens still clocking dollars 

But I tell them what I'm about, hit the twat and holler 

I'm a Boss Hogg nigga, we all of that 

One hitter quitter nigga, who don't call them back 

And when they see me, they be like "Daily you wrong for that" 

Because he don't speak, he just say move along get back 

That's my team, on the scene 

On glass, with the screens looking clean 

On dro, with the lean 

Boss Hogg Outlawz, the number one team 

[Chris Ward] 

I'm C-Wiggy, my flow be jiggy 

These niggas mad at me, just because they girls dig me 

I got so many clothes, I dress fresher than most hoes 

So many shoes, I give Michael Jordan the blues 

So many furs, some his and some hers 

I do what I does, because I does what I do 

I pop tags like trunks on slabs 

Peel back tops like unhealed scabs 

Throwing up the deuce, and giving real niggas daps 

If haters run up, then them punks can catch jabs 

(C. Ward you so ghetto) My nigga that's the truth 

(And why's that hole in your car?) My nigga, that's the roof 

(And why my ears keep ringing?) My nigga, that's them speakers 

(Why you got mirrors on your tires?) My nigga, that's them sneakers 

(And why your car look like a serpent?) My nigga, that's that paint 

(And why's it foggy inside?) My nigga, that's that stank 

You see these major, labels want me worse than the FEDS 

Because my flows feed niggas like jail house spreads 

These hoes call me Simon because they do what I says 

Plus I got my money long like Jamaican dreads 

I'm Chris Wizzard, I go so hizzard 

Stay away from phonies, fakers, haters and frizzauds 

Rappers mad at me because my flow is like a retard 

But really I think, it's because I done cut up they brizzoads 

[Killa Kyleon] 

I'm the MVP, Kyleon the one 

It's Outlaw Season, Kyleon LeBron 

Badge on my neck, just shining like the sun 

Put the heat to the sheet, and cook a beat till it's done 

I get paid when I rap, this not a freestyle bro 

I got a paid style, not a freestyle flow 

Ten three for the show, fifteen for the flow 

And another fifteen if you want to scope blow 

I got bills, got drank, and a connect on the dro 

That's why the diamond chain, look like a neck full of snow 

In a wide body 'Lac, and I'm next to your hoe 

With her head in my lap, and she pecking me slow 

Got the pop trunk glowing, and the bumper kit hung 

Ice pack on my wrist, like a nigga shit's sprung 

Somebody call lost and found, because my top missing 

I done made it disappear, just like a magician 

Killa