Outro Songtext

Yea,
Ima shoot on down to Atlanta,Know what I'm talkin bout?
Gotta holla at that organized noise,
arcades, good in mind, beside our soul baby.
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Wassup Rick Carter, keeping it real
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Gotta holla at my folks in Jackson,
Sup Stokes, Know what I'm talkin bout?
...
Oh we gon do it like big players,
Wassup N.O. Joe, real nigga,
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Keeping it real baby,
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Wassup P,
and all my niggas from New-Orleans
Baby, Slim.
Lil daddy, big dick, E
Know what I'm talkin bout? Mr. Tommy Johnson; Killa, huh.
And my nigger Bull C.
I gotta holla at my people in Oakland
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Huh, my nigga Spice One, G-Nut,
That's my niggas, extra large.
Keeping my head loaded on that Indo Smoke baby,
Every time I see em,
Wassup Short, keeping it real baby
Huh, oh it real baby, huh, yea.
uhh, I got to holla at that nigga uh Goldie, yuh keeping it real with that indo baby,
I love to smoke, love to smoke man
Hold up
...
Wassup D answer low, oh we kick it like big players
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Free Larry Hoover, free Larry Hoover, free Larry Hoover.
Three shots, its real, huh.
I wanna holla at all my partners locked down in penitentiaries, some of em in Fed some in State, some of em in Huntsville.
My nigga Block
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Smoke D, Squeaky Hinds, K-Dawg
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Oh we is fucked up baby
...
Huh, I wanna holla at that boy Shaquille O'Neal; cuz he kept it real with me.
Know what I'm sayin?
Huh, all my niggas in Tennessee, Nashville, Memphis.
I gotta holla at Danny Young; sup boy.
Niggas in Florida, Miami, Jacksonville.
Seattle, Washington, my nigga Bobo.
D-town, D-town, smoking,
Always leaning baby.
...
I wanna holla at the organists entirety
I got niggas in leafiest, C.C. water-bound, wassup Money.
...
I wanna holla at Joy,
Ma nigga Guilt and Fish-Bone for keeping it real wit me.
Wassup B-Legit, Niggas in Felayo;
Drinkin hurricanes, smokin indo
Green Fluffy Weed,
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Studio-tone; E-40.
Wassup Ill-Ill, oh its real,
Breed, E.S.G., The Ghetto Boys, Cibo.
Yuh, Ya'll keeping it real.
Know what I'm talkin bout?
Yuh, uh.
And I wanna dedicate this album to son;
Chad Butler, the second.
In the memory of my step-father; RIP.
Its UGK.
1996
Smokin.


(Thanks to WiloydPot for these lyrics)