Richey 6ixxx - FOREVA UGK Lyrics

Yeah, you already know what it is, you know what it is, nigga
Loc'd up with this thang, loc'd up, still misfitn
Still 316, you know what I'm talkin' bout
You know what I'm sayin'

We just in for cash, man, we just in for cash, nigga
UGK, yeah
Uh, smoke some bitch, rest in peace sweet James
What up, Uncle Bun

Long live UGK, I'ma do this for Texas
Might put elbows on my Lexus
Turn my hazard lights on
Superstar on my section, girl, bring that ass in my direction

Bend that ass over here and let me caress it
Tossed that fresh salad she swallowed my dressin'
Pleased my erection now she got exit
PIMPIN

Antonio Vargas
My album retarted
I might do the edited version
For the kids, they release it in Target

On that pussy
Throw me a party, won't take out my jewelry and keep on my Jordans
She gave me consent to record it
I whip out my camera like I work Harvard
Willow Creek elementary

I was a lil nigga
Writing on my skin wit a sharpie
Now I might get a tat on my face and Mike Tyson the game
Take a bite out these artist

I know niggas think I'm just talking
Vampire life I sleep in the coffin
With money, all under the mattress
And if I'm gon' die, it's gon' C worth a fortune

Rest in peace Chinx drugs
Paul Walker, they both died in Porsches
You got kids, well don't play with my money
It's never too late for abortions

I go FED for the money
She go hard for the money
We go UGHH for the money, for the money, for the money
My section, I run it

A thousand grans and runnin
Make it UGHH for the money, for the money, for the money

Kush plants growing in the back room
Bad bitch throwin' up in my bathroom

Banana clip with me on the tour bus
Go head n show ya ass like a baboon
She said she had a friend with her
That's cool

Now I got em both kissing on my tattoo
Make the bitch whole pussy beatbox
Sound like a ol Dougie fresh rap tune
The

Dwight Howard sippin' on lean
James Harden twistin' up green
This Houston, life is enticin
They should probably drug test the whole team
Niggas get famous, and turn into fiends

Walk through the jail Alexander McQueen
Two squirts, Roberto Cavalli
John Dillinger tucked in my jeans
So many C-notes in the wall

If they probably talk they would sing
I really feel like I'm Hugh Hefner
When all of my women convene
L-O-C I trill nigga

Dickies n chucks f*ck hillfigure
I used to C hooked on, Percocets
Back when a nigga was a pill dealer
Don't go to church, but I pray at night

Lord, please don't let a hater take my life
No seatbelts, I run the red light
Cuz niggas out here Jack every night
I Keep my mind on my money, nigga, f*ck the fame

Even though I finally famous
Your girl came up to the show
And she got close enough, that she probably fainted
Never f*ck hoe without head no more

Never pouring up with nothin less than a four
I'm just tryin' to get a car in her name
A house, I can claim
I ain't Tryin' to have sex with tha hoe

It's UGK till they off me
You caught sippin', and they caught it
Keep your family close, and Ben Franklin closer
That's all they taught me

I ain't never ratted on nobody
A nigga did what? That's your problem
Left me hanging out of dry niggas clothes line
Now Houston start to look a bit more Compton

That's closer to Hollywood
Getting closer to Hollywood
Comin' through bangin' Screw tapes
While we coastin' through Hollywood

I go FED for the money
She go HARD for the money
We go UGHH for the money
For the money, for the money

My section, I run it
A thousand grams, and runnin
Make it UGHH
For the money, for the money, for the money