“exclusive 8 minute freestyle”
[talking: lil keke]
most antic*p*ted texas mixtape n*gg*. young don you know what i’m sayin? i been gettin money. lil c, keep stackin n*gg*. 1-2-3-4. we don did it again. ya know, these n*gg*s out here out makin love, haha. check it out. get off ya n*gg*, go get ya money. if you stand in line long enough you gon get to the window homie. ya know what i’m sayin. i been gettin it. ohh, original suc that is. the mvp n*gg*.
you know what? i came in this game, i woke up one mornin i was thinkin bout the grain. jumped in the drop, seats red b*tter. turned up the bang and it made the trunk stutter. i riding up the vard i thinkin bout some b*tches, i p*ss by in it let em work on my switches. now i’m gettin juice, pancakes droppin. it’s the young don in the way he stoppin. never ever stop, i smoke good crop. you know when i hold, i come red out the shop. it might be apa, it might be brandy, nine coats of clear, i got that wet *ss candy. comin out the salt, since ’93. d-o-n the k-e-k-e. n*gg*s know one thing i bring hap. freestyle king young don fat pat. i did it from the top, i did it for the troop. and it’s the young don still rep hoover blue. what’s up to them bloods, it’s a whole nation. gangsta *ss n*gg*s thug n*gg*s on vacation. suckas go home, my click still strong. i’m comin down candy red ridin on the bone. bone insides lookin like tan. drop the top and sw*ng 4s to the sand.
now in the water, hoes see a slaughter. it’s the young don still chasin after daughters. chasin after hoes, ridin of 4s. everytime i ride i be on my tiptoes. ridin through the lane, holdin wood grain. n*gg*s know young don ke do his thang. i came for the t*tle, i came back hard. sucka *ss n*gg*s had to give me my car. now they still hidin, look at em run. i’m chasin after n*gg*s with the what choppa gun. bustin boys down, suckas is a clown. 713 i’m the king of the town. i’m still underground, i’m still hoover screw. (rip) i’m still comin hard and i’m still ridin blue. i’m riding cobalt, i might be ridin navy, it’s the young don only god can save me.
lord, help me, please come back. i’m diggin in my pocket and i’m bout to spend a stack. i’m still sellin crack, i’m still writin raps. it’s the young don keep stars on my caps. everytime i ride, everytime i slide, suckas start runnin, boys start hidin. it’s the young don, i’m riding in the car. freestyle king still a f*ckin superstar. i’m still a what king, i’m bout to live a dream. everytime i pull out, i’m with a strong team. a team full a goons, higher than the moon, so much wood it’s lookin like a living room. inside in the vette, it’s wet like a pet. herschelwood texas still represent my set. i am the king, listen to my tongue. hoes start listenin and them hoes get sprung. i be breakin mics, i be breakin cards. it’s the young don still tippin boulevard. what about this chevy? it’s sits so heavy. i’m a break the game up if n*gg*s let me. i’m outta h-town, what’s up fat pat? it’s the young don hoes still tryin to chat. i holla at a dime, cause it ain’t a crime. i’m hollerin at them n*gg*s dressed in white louis vuitton. boys in the pen, stand up strong. it’s the young don on the mic goin long. i can’t fall off, i represent the south. i spent 20, 000 on my motha f*ckin mouth. now my rocks glow, 30 for a show. i break the hoe. n*gg*s don’t know.
i still go hard, i still go what? it’s the young don might be riding trophy truck. sittin on the buck, sittin on the gray. n*gg*s better go home if they tryin to play. i never do it, i never stop, it’s the young don might just cut off the top. let em see the inside let em see the drop. comin down sunshine a n*gg* don’t pop. i don’t pop trunk, i don’t ride belts. i ride old school make sure the pain felt. n*gg*s don’t stop. n*gg*s still hatin. it’s the young don might be ridin, ice skatin. ridin on them 4s, ridin on the spiders. never pay attention to them broke d*ck riders. can’t see me, i can’t be stopped. it’s the young don smokin green colored crop. smokin on the kush, smokin on the purple, n*gg*s talkin down i only f*ck with my circle. only my crew, this what i do. what’s up screw you, i still love you. it’s the young don, i do it for my son. money by the ton.
drinkin on soda, with the bar in it. you know what i’m talkin bout? i’m in the coupe, ain’t walkin the lot. i’m parkin lot pimpin the lot. f*ckin with these bad *ss b*tches. but i know, they after riches, not mine. i gotta gun and i’m a c*ck mine. hatas, gimmie 50, drop down. my n*gg* c-mo. and that boy mike-mo down with z-ro. and that millzey, it’s goin down. n*gg* we representin h-town. we’ll lay ya down in this b*tch. don’t talk sh*t, we’ll spray ya down in the b*tch (b*tch) quick (quick). and all you n*gg*s dead mayne. cereal bowl holes in heads mayne. ay, that’s real talk. hold up, rip to hawk, rip to moe, rip to chad. i don’t need a pen and pad. i’m actin bad.
hold up, i’m on that madden, in the crib one deep, and i’m saggin. blue raggin and flaggin at the same time. did 17 murders with the same 9. godd*mn n*gg*, i’m just runnin my mouth. but i’m still reppin the south. ya’ll know what i’m talkin about, walk in with the pistol, hit em, then i walk out. i get my motha f*ckin bread n*gg*, and guess what i got? 10 mo bullets fo yo head n*gg*. screwed up click all day long. i’m gon, but i can run my block from a payphone. why? cause i got og bread. everytime we hit the parking lot we turn heads like chad. and the motha f*ckin bun b. i got bread, by the hundred. 1000 dollas for the abn. king of the ghetto entertainment then. an that g-maab entertainment. trae i love you mayne. real talk.