Z-ro - Grace

This how we ride in third, blow up serve, blow herb
From lane to lane we grip the grain and 20's chop up the curb
We popping flippers on sippers, hey those g's on the rise
With bubble eyes and customized and chrome twenty inches wide
Entertainment center be lit up, and all the trunks gone lift up
Button rims they grip up, the talkers mouths gone zip up
It's that time and here we come, third coast take a stand
We drew it up and screwed them up and see went through with the plan
Jumped in the mix with hundred bricks and now a mobbing gorilla
You had to miss go get her, about the scrilla my nigga
Stay loaded up and we ready, Box City working that jelly
Burning more streets than pereddy, while cutting up like machetes
No doubt screwed up candy paint, killer think straight drink
Down here we swinging the tank, and every thought be bout bank
I'ma be T from the S.U.C. pay dues got stripes that be ranks
That boy G-R-A-C-E third ward born caught off gameIf you living shife, don't fuck with third coast
These niggas can't fade third coast, These niggas can't fade