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Slim Thug - Mash for Our Cash lyrics
(*talking*)
 Ha, hold up out the Shop looking good
 Know I'm tal'n bout, Rayface out the Shop
 Slim, them boys out the Shop
 It's going down, know I'm saying
 Me, C-Styles and Big Sin, 2002
 Drop L-Dogs looking good, this how it go down
 Know I'm saying, er'body acting bad
 Believe that Troy, this how we gon do it ha
 [Hook]
 Man I'm in my drop-drop, rolling on the chop-chop
 Boppers gon bop-bop, but it don't stop-stop
 Third Coast's finest, feel what we spitting
 Like a platinum Rolex, we just roll we ain't ticking
 Balling in the mix, gotta get the drank mix
 Ooh fool, this is what we do
 Throw up a deuce, then we just smash
 E, Slim and C watch us mash for our cash
 [Slim Thug]
 I top drop on 4's, and pop trunk on hoes
 I'm closing candy do's, free on blow snow
 From the Tre to the Fo', in my topless dancer
 It's that elbow pouncer, yellow bone enhancer
 I can make you catch cancer, cause I smoke so much
 I stack do' so much, I wreck the flow so much
 I get much respect, when I come down your block
 And what you call rags, but we call drops
 When my trunk unlock, the whole block gon stop
 Cause I'ma make the boppers bop, and your mama call the cops
 I got five T.V.'s, playing DVD's
 While me and three G's, blowing on three trees
 And it's 80 degrees, top dropping weather
 The weather done got better, I'm lied back on leather
 A young trend setter, whenever I ride
 I'm top dropping worldwide, representing H-Town
[Hook]
 [E.S.G.]
 I'm out the Shop don't stop, my top dropped for the summer
 Everything dipped in chrome, from my rims to my bumperSlim Thug - Mash for Our Cash - http://motolyrics.com/slim-thug/mash-for-our-cash-lyrics.html
 Low pro Yokohamas, eight fifteen's knock
 (*beeping*), remote control air shocks
 Trunk pop hang flip, flop I'm on the tip-top
 Two liter Sprite, bout to hit the sip spot
 Haters get got, got a stash spot for glock
 Infrared dot, protect the rocks in my watch
 Dump it like a Sasquatch, when it chop your block
 Nuts the size of watermelons, did you see tell him we hot
 Got the game in a headlock, we coming through
 While them haters shoo-shoo, we run choo-choo's
 Like hoo-doo, we put hexes on niggaz
 T.V.'s in the headrest, DTS'ing these niggaz
 Best in Texas nigga, so back-back fool
 We ride with heat, the size of Shaq's shoes
[Hook]
 [C-Styles]
 Drop top trunk pop, I'm mashing fast
 Pop my trunk I show my glass, I'm acting a damn ass
 A screen on my dash, size of computer screens
 You can hear the six fifteen's, and the V-dozen machine
 I'm pulling up mean, and my candy still dripping
 Mix the Sprite with the lean, and I'm still sipping
 Got Mr. Q-Y, and them haters set tripping
 I got the Lexus back, and I'm S-Class flipping
 I swang to the lot, to get the drop PT Cruiser
 Throw the boy out the roof, representing Bogalusa
 We slamming E.S.G., we got's to get the Cardiers
 Cause we ball like Jason, Dujan and Battier
 Sixteen-five for a bird, so nigga quit hating
 In Texas they ride swangs, in Louisiana it's daytons
 Screens fall no hesitation, my trunk still shaking
 And the four 18's, got my Neons breaking
[Hook]
 [E.S.G.]
 Drop, tops
 Swang on bops, fuck cops
 Whoa, no
 That's how Dirty South niggaz roll








