Paul Wall State To State lyrics

State To State by Paul Wall

State To State lyrics

[Freeway: (Intro)]
Free! Paul Wall! 
And we coming with the bump bump buuum! 
Early! Yeah! Uh! It's The Roc, Swishahouse and we 
Dumping on y'all hating ass niggas 
And we hit yall with the Bump Bump buuum 
Early! Uh! Yeah! Uh! 

Y'all better keep your weapons close 
It's Philly and Paul Wall 
And this is the way we ball bring the raw 
To your city got them semis 
If you really want war 
We gon bring it to your doorstep 
Vests and them hoodies 
And we pop pop pop 
Through your body 
Put the rest in your fitted
And this is the way you fall to the ground 
An' you shaking nigga 
State prop cock game and we gun a hater down 
And we take a hater's pounds 
And we sell a hater's bricks 
And we the main reason why they chicks is not around 
Somebody tell them that they're rockin' Houston 
Swishahouse got that knockin' Houston we come and lock shit down 

[Chorus:]
Real niggas stand up point em we gon gun 'em haters down come around you hear that... 
And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down smoke a pound with him 
Real niggas step up we gon gun 'em haters down come around you hear that... 
And all my real bitches step up come to wipe a player down smoke a pound with him 

[Paul Wall:]
I hear these haters talking seem like they're getting louder 
These sweet cupcakes softer than some clam chowder 
I'm from the city to proudly serve crack rocks? 
For twenty dollars get you higher than an astronaut 
I keep a Glock in my state prop jeans 
Floating on cloud nine goin' off codiene 
I chuck a deuce to a hater 
I'm on a mission for paper 
I got Lil' Hawk with me serving dope fiends like a waiter 
I'm on the south B with my boy do you 
Big bank take little bank baby tell me what it do 
These boys talking loud but they ain't saying a thang 
But Paul Wall and Freeway will make 'em sang 

[Chorus]

It's the Swishahouse state prop chain gang 
.45 cal big Glock bang bang 
I keep the tupperware tucked in my underwear 
Rain down thunder on these suckers make the clutter clear 
Let's get one thing clear I run with grizzly bears 
Bite you in your back and make you straighten out your chest hair 
I'm 100 baby no time for playing games 
I got a garden full of carats hanging in my chain 
I keep a player bought my paper fuck a hater 
Cause the real turn fake switching over like a crossfader 
I'm squashing chatter climbing up the ladder 
Cause my goal is to make my pockets fatter baby Paul Wall 

[Chorus]