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Tell Me Something Good (Radio)

This song is by UGK and appears on the EP The Southern Way (1988).

Hold on Bounce feat. Bun B and Paul Wall
No Came
Acceleration Gangster

Verse 1 Bun B

Hold on, can't stop, can't rewind the time
Drunk off liquor, high of dollar bills and dimes
Out here getting my paper nine to five
Lil' tricks around the way they know what's up
Talk too much, get fucked up
I guess I'd die in the life of greed
Muthafuckas 'round here die to bleed
Grinding hard, till we cease
Breakin bread, reading Matthew 26
On that Purple Haze like Jemi Hendrix
I'm a G hell yeah, oh boy
Brotha burna zone, nigga
We always keep it trill, in the hood we look like kings
Hold on, down here we moving weights
Go-getters, paper chase
I keep my mind focused, make money, break bread
Work hard like I ain't rich
I'm surviving, that's the code of the streets
Fancy cars and diamond ice, that's how it be
All about the cheddar, riding in cars with leather
Middle finger to the haters, cause no one can do it better
Bring me two turkeys back like it's Thanksgiving
Don't matter what time of the year, we stay pimpin'
That's how Texan living

Now hold on, hold on bounce
Now hold on, hold on bounce
Now hold on, hold on bounce

Verse 2-Paul Wall

Paul Wall, you know I stay clean
It's me and Bun B Dirty and No Came Southeast
Maryland South, and hood is how you be
America's toughest bouncer, call me Mr. T.
The car got hydrolics, no balance
The Godfather of dripping cars
Tell it like it is like Al Sharpton
Getting money, ain't no problem
Get this paper like an NBA baller
Fresh out of Houston
Sippin Sizzup, sippin Louie
Everyday, I'm on a mean attack
Give me a brick of blow you never seen it flip as fast as that
Listen to "Gangsta Grillz" is real, best chill
Living Large, 3D real
Clark Kent couldn't invent this Superman feel
When I ride my cadi, I'm strapped up at all times,
Flex me and I beat you down
I'm a boss, the way I smooth operate
Got a way with women, first day a date
I'll have you feelin' like you walkin' on the moon,
Cause truly I live in space,
Superfly, like I'm living away
Trunk pumpin listening to Ugk
Look for real, not the fake
Hustling on the grind,
Riding foreign rides, baby

Now hold on, hold on bounce
Now hold on, hold on bounce
Now hold on, hold on bounce

Verse 3-No Came

DC, Landover, Temple
Getting money is simple
Ballers and we write with a pencil
Getting money, GM are initials
Popping tags, swag too official
I grind its off to work
Hustle hard, make the jewelry store hurt
Still give thanks to God, first man first
Accumulating paper stacks than are as high as the Himalayas
Look at Clif, he's a playa
Was broke, not millionaire
People look at me, diamonds they stare
Money is the Himalayan Range
15,000 glaciers of ice, man I'm paid
Broad Peak, money I speak
But dirty, na, now I ride
But with a hard past, and a bible inside
I was born blind but now I see that road to riches
Hustle, 'cause I want 7 figga digits
Want my sons to be paid like me
Ballers, riding 23s
It's a rider's world, in a cold town
It's feels good, rest in peace James Brown

Chorus till 438

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