Released: November 7, 2013
Featuring: Paul Wall
Songwriter: Paul Wall Lecrae
Producer: Hector Delgado David Banner
[Verse 1: Lecrae]
Yo, aye look
5th wheel straight hangin'
Grip the grain, I’m swangin'
It’s Texas all on my roots boy
Ain’t no point in me changing
On 45, trunk bangin'
From fair park to south acres
I hit big T’s then I hit kings
In the same day no playin
I’m whippin, I’m dippin though the great state of Texas
I used to rock the gold, tall t's with a necklace
My car wasn’t mean but I kept that thing clean
Paint chip, couple dents
And the brakes used to scream
Oh well, I still gotta let that trunk knock
Hear me beatin down yo block
And my car just stopped again
Mayne, my gas gauge don’t work
I can’t tell how much gas I got man
[Interlude: Lecrae & Paul Wall]
Let it whip
I let it whip
I said I let it whip
Hold up
Let it whip
Paul Wall, baby
All ready
[Verse 2: Paul Wall]
I pull up, trunk bumpin' like a bad shave
Speakers blastin' extra loud with the trunk raised
Four tires lookin fresher than a pair of J’s
Seven cars right behind me in this SLAB Parade
I’m a pro, I work the wood like a carpenter
Everybody tippin down, no bartender
Candy paint, make em take my picture, offered them
Money on my phone like a telemarketer
I weave the 'Lac through traffic like Malaysian hair
My fifth wheel bow down like it’s time for prayer
All speakers in the trunk, bro, no spare
Paint job, 10 racks for 10 thousand stares
[Verse 3: Lecrae]
Yea sir
Hey look yo car might be rusty
Your ride might be old
But that thing get you from A to B
So go and put the thing on the road
Mane you ain’t gotta be stuntin
Got a good job, a little money
Aye you don’t need no car note
You debt free and they frontin'
They strugglin'
You grateful you ain’t sittin on the bus, and
Got 4 wheels, I got a little bills and that’s so real, it’s 100
That’s factory, gon play that
That’s Japanese, well gon say that
Your leather cracked, and yo roof scratched
Well I’m cool with that so gon lay back
Don’t need a Benz and no Maybach
No CD player, got 8-track
You old school, thats yo cool
Don’t let nobody say jack
Just ride, don’t let them kill yo vibe
Yo air don’t work? Go and let them windows down
And let that thing whip
Yo, aye look
5th wheel straight hangin'
Grip the grain, I’m swangin'
It’s Texas all on my roots boy
Ain’t no point in me changing
On 45, trunk bangin'
From fair park to south acres
I hit big T’s then I hit kings
In the same day no playin
I’m whippin, I’m dippin though the great state of Texas
I used to rock the gold, tall t's with a necklace
My car wasn’t mean but I kept that thing clean
Paint chip, couple dents
And the brakes used to scream
Oh well, I still gotta let that trunk knock
Hear me beatin down yo block
And my car just stopped again
Mayne, my gas gauge don’t work
I can’t tell how much gas I got man
[Interlude: Lecrae & Paul Wall]
Let it whip
I let it whip
I said I let it whip
Hold up
Let it whip
Paul Wall, baby
All ready
[Verse 2: Paul Wall]
I pull up, trunk bumpin' like a bad shave
Speakers blastin' extra loud with the trunk raised
Four tires lookin fresher than a pair of J’s
Seven cars right behind me in this SLAB Parade
I’m a pro, I work the wood like a carpenter
Everybody tippin down, no bartender
Candy paint, make em take my picture, offered them
Money on my phone like a telemarketer
I weave the 'Lac through traffic like Malaysian hair
My fifth wheel bow down like it’s time for prayer
All speakers in the trunk, bro, no spare
Paint job, 10 racks for 10 thousand stares
[Verse 3: Lecrae]
Yea sir
Hey look yo car might be rusty
Your ride might be old
But that thing get you from A to B
So go and put the thing on the road
Mane you ain’t gotta be stuntin
Got a good job, a little money
Aye you don’t need no car note
You debt free and they frontin'
They strugglin'
You grateful you ain’t sittin on the bus, and
Got 4 wheels, I got a little bills and that’s so real, it’s 100
That’s factory, gon play that
That’s Japanese, well gon say that
Your leather cracked, and yo roof scratched
Well I’m cool with that so gon lay back
Don’t need a Benz and no Maybach
No CD player, got 8-track
You old school, thats yo cool
Don’t let nobody say jack
Just ride, don’t let them kill yo vibe
Yo air don’t work? Go and let them windows down
And let that thing whip