[talking:]
 
 G'eah Slim Thugger, Killa Kyleon, C. Ward
 
 PJ, Daily, we the Boyz N Blue
 
  
  [Slim Thug:]
 
 Yeah we stacking that green, naw I mean
 
 Big Boss, and that Outlaw team
 
 Pulling up clean, blue with the screens
 
 Niggaz ain't seen, another crew this mean
 
 Take it back to the North, back with the Boss
 
 Been wrecking decks, since back at the House
 
 Haters disrespect, getting smacked in the mouth
 
 Niggaz play hard, but they acting they soft
 
 How we ride, with the steel
 
 Fuck with us, and you gon get killed
 
 From the land of the trill, yeah we represent the Tex
 
 Don't bar plex, come playing get checked
 
 Get your hoe ass wrecked, trying to bring it to the Boss
 
 I'll get your ass done, it don't matter what it cost
 
 We floss that blue, do it for the crew
 
 Old school Caddy, or the new slabs too
 
 Paul Wall what it do, Who Mike Jones
 
 Boys mad at us, cause we getting our shine on
 
 Put it in they face, put em in they place
 
 Gotta let em know, who the leaders of the race
 
 Boss Hogg Outlawz, stacking that change
 
 Jackers be aware, we packing that thang
 
 Run your ass up, and I'ma rat-a-tat mayn
 
 I ain't playing no games, I'ma aim for the brain
  
 
 [PJ:]
 
 It's PJ, the Rap Hustler
 
 Going off, on these player hating suckers
 
 I'm from the Nawf, side of town
 
 Boys bout it over here, we on the grind
 
 I came up, it feel good
 
 Ain't a damn thang changed, I'm still hood
 
 Boss Hogg, Outlawz
 
 Fake niggaz, put your back against the wall
 
 Doing shows, pimping hoes
 
 Pulling out, on a glass set of 4's
 
 What we ride, that blue
 
 What we bang, that Screw
 
 Big piece, full of ice
 
 Boyz N Blue, nothing nice
 
 I go off, I go hard
 
 It's whatever, I don't bar
  
 
 [Sir Daily:]
 
 Here come Daily, in that wide frame thang
 
 Sliding down the block, with a fine dime mayn
 
 Times ain't changed, so these chickens still clocking dollas
 
 But I tell em what I'm bout, hit the twat and holla
 
 I'm a Boss Hogg nigga, we all of that
 
 One hitter quitter nigga, who don't call em back
 
 And when they see me, they be like Daily you wrong for that
 
 Cause he don't speak, he just say move along get back
 
 That's my team, on the scene
 
 On glass, with the screens looking mean
 
 On dro, with the lean
 
 Boss Hogg Outlawz, the number one team
  
 
 [Chris Ward:]
 
 I'm C-Wiggy, my flow be jiggy
 
 These niggaz mad at me, just because they girls dig me
 
 I got so many clothes, I dress fresher than most hoes
 
 So many shoes, I give Michael Jordan the blues
 
 So many furs, some his and some her's
 
 I do what I does, cause I does what I do
 
 I pop tags like trunks, on slabs
 
 Peel back tops, like unhealed scabs
 
 Throwing up the deuce, and giving real niggaz daps
 
 If haters run up, then them punks can catch jabs
 
 (C. Ward you so ghetto), my nigga that's the truth
 
 (and why's that hole in your car), my nigga that's the roof
 
 (and why my ears keep bleeding), my nigga that's them speakers
 
 (why you got mirrors on your tires), my nigga that's them sneakers
 
 (and why your car look like a serpent), my nigga that's the paint
 
 (and why's it foggy inside), my nigga that's that stank
 
 You see these major labels, want me worse than the FED's
 
 Cause my flows feed niggaz, like jail house spreads
 
 These hoes call me Simon, cause they do what I says
 
 Plus I got my money long, like Jamaican dreads
 
 I'm Chris Wizzard, I go so hizzard
 
 Stay away from phonies fakers, haters and frizzauds
 
 Rappers mad at me, cause my flow is like a retard
 
 But really I think, it's cause I done cut up they brizzoads
  
 
 [Kyleon:]
 
 I'm MVP, Kyleon the one
 
 It's Outlaw season, Kyleon Lebron
 
 Badge on my neck, just shining like the sun
 
 Put the heat to the sheet, and cook a beat till it's done
 
 I get paid when I rap, this not a freestyle bro
 
 I got a paid style, not a freestyle flow
 
 Ten thee for the show, fifteen for the flow
 
 And another fifteen, if you wanna sco' blow
 
 I got bills got drank, and a connect on the dro
 
 That's why the diamond chain, look like a neck full of snow
 
 In a wide body Lac, and I'm next to your hoe
 
 With her head in my lap, and she pecking me slow
 
 Got the pop trunk glowing, and the bumper kit huh
 
 Ice pack on my wrist, like a nigga shit's sprung
 
 Bout to call lost and found, cause my top missing
 
 I done made it disappear, just like a magician Killa