Short Texas Lyrics


[Bun B:]
Ay yo, welcome to the world of S-H-O-R-T
Texas where them trill ass niggas be livin naughty
Rollin' up ho's like turtles in half a shell
Open up my trunk and let's see what I have to sell
I got the dope, if you ho's got the paper
And if you a faker then you'll meet your f**kin maker
Cause I ain't takin no shit on my guts
The UGK posse got the big big nuts
Yo, so who's a bold bitch?
Try to make a sale, You betta bail before they find you in a ditch
This dope ain't yo dope and these cuts and yo cuts
Yo, but this is my 12 Gauge in your muthaf**kin guts
Don't make me pump this bitch and unload
Beat your feet muthaf**ka, hit the muthaf**kin road
And don't even try to come back nigga yo
Cause me Dre and C got fingers on a fat trigger
We making too much money moving weight
And before you hit my cuts, you better get your shit straight
Cause it ain't safe to just try and show your ass up
Street sweeper booming cold blow your ass up
And ain't nobody scared to blast
We pull them triggers fast
And then we bailing on your bitch ass
But if your shit is legit, then you can join my crew
U.S.T. graduating class of '92 in Short Texas


[Blue Light:]
Niggas on the track dropping shit about T-X
As long as there's fiends that's them tax free dope checks
Young muthaf**kas at the age of 16
Cooking up some yayo for the local drug king
The market's not open so they call it closed circuit
Short Short Texas watch them hard thugs work it
5-0's on the scene make the all time drug bust
Out next week slangin some more white dust
Real, oh so trill, the life's no glamour
At the end of my time is spent in the slammer
f**kin up shit with the 9 inch chrome
So all you scary got-it-good young-ass bitches stay home
And if you get picked up by the laws
Don't cry cause it's for a lost cause
Clientele, ounce of yayo, in jail make bail
From longs to short, it's constant dope sales
Stupid muthaf**kas smoking dummies and noids in jail
On U.S.T., Crack University
Home of the Fightin Fiends, the streets reimburse me
Cops finding my stash, yo what could the worst be
Through so going undercover then turnin dirty
Bitch, I'm dead and swole in a ditch
Just the other day, a fiend in your Lexus
Calling my name Blue Light, I'm Short Texas


[Pimp C:]
I don't give a f**k who you be!
You ain't bout to sell no f**kin dope in P.A.T.
You could be Tony Montana in this bitch
Have a boat load of dope, but you still ain't selling shit
Cause we don't know your face so I don't really figure
We gon let you come up and sell dope in Texas nigga
See you don't understand, it's our muthaf**kin cuts
So step in, like I said before, we'll take them muthaf**kin nuts
Ask the last nigga brought his f**kin ass down
Trying to sell that f**kin dope he bought in H-Town
Couldn't sell in Houston, so I guess he figured
I'mma go to Port Arthur and run them f**kin niggas
Brought his f**kin gun, guess he should've bust
So they took his shit and put his dick in the dust
Stupid ass nigga had the nerve to come back
Rolling on the cuts in his white Cadillac
Got to the block and the guns just exploded
Shot his car up with the 9, and the clip that he unloaded
Sent the nigga home to his momma like a ho
They jacked all his money and they stole all his dope
Can't be trill in the villa of the trillest
Cause where I'm from nigga house some muthaf**kin killers
So have your shit attached, before you come check us
Pimp C, bitch, P.A. home, Short Texas


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Songwriter(s): Chad L. Butler, Blue Light, Bernard James Freeman
Publisher(s): Universal Music - Z Tunes LLC, Pimp My Pen Int.
Record Label(s): 1992 Zomba Recording LLC
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