Lyrics:

(Juan Gotti: Verse 1)
Razaville Texas Houston to McAllen
Deep in San Anto, screw Rich y Valles
Rollin' throughout Dallas, Boritos and Corpus
Odessa, Laredo, the locos in Austin
Texas made Mexican's north of the border
Land of the free, smokin' weed with my Gordo.
Muthafuckers laid back in yo' Cadillac
Let me jump in this shit like back to back
Stay real for life, roll down south
For the wreckshop, for the hometown crowd
My alias is that Go Hard Mexican
Flowin' through your veins like medicine.
Wanna be down? On the H-Town
Real ballers fight for the rebound
B-Town to muthafuckin' G-Town
Creep around everybody G'd out
Can't see how you can dawg me out
Make me out, take me out
Deep south, my hood got more slack
Than 88 cowboys ridin' on horse back.
Top that! The Mexican's all that
Strike like a snake and attack like a bobcat.

(Baby Bash: Verse 2)
Hoe ass niggas, there ain't nothin' worse
They do it for panurch, but I do it for the purse
And I'm still on the search, sometimes I go to church
7 deuce old school Cadillac with the skirts
And I speak for muthafuckers on the couch and the flo'
'Cause a Mexican like my self is out for the dough
But you already know, if you got big pelota's
Anybody now a days, might be the chota's
A young Baby Beesh, he don't fuck with police
And he'll beat the dawg shit out your nephew and niece
If they ever get the snitchin' yellin' tellin' and singin'
I'm a call the whole squad and some heads gon' be ringin'
I'm Dope House stout, fuck a set up and no hear though
It's real talk, real breath, make it clear hoe!

Chorus: Carolyn:
Throw your hood up
All my G's represent
Turn up your deck
Dope House click came to wreck.

(South Park Mexican: Verse 3)
Money and the power, glass on the Prowler
Blaze up a blunt as I tell you all about a
Kill'a out the Hill'a, crawl like caterpillar
Pour a .44 up in my grapes ass for real'a
This for my gangsta's 45 stainless
Throw yo' set up, let me see your sign language
Sell a crack rock, steal a laptop
Jack for a key and sell that bitch for half off
Rollin' with my comrades
Buddy and we all blast, everybody bought Lac's
Everybody got stacks, some of us puff Black's
Some Newports
Tap tap Too $hort, even chop New York
If it ain't screwed up, I don't wanna hear it
Lac on pancake, while I'm pourin' up the syrup
In the pen-agena, Hillwood represent'a
Home of the rock, inside a broken antenna.
Muthafucker.

(Coast: Verse 4)
I throw my set rounds, I been at up's & down's
Anybody plays about it, my lady has sounds
Homey from the Nawf side & I'm all about mine
Money paper chasin' stack it up, I gotta count mine
'Cause I...
Was raised in a broken home, the groceries gone
Mama snortin' coke to the dome, but hold the foam
She left Coast alone, I'm slowly grown
And learned how to hold the chrome, My hope is gone.
Fuck bein' broke! Come on
I'm finna take ya to the spot where the homie's roam
We surely don't take no shit from nobody
So don't trip on nobody, get a clip in your body, uh
This the gut of the ghetto, Catholicism is in prison
We been with our religion, where I'm livin'
We been a victim, see we ain't just suspect's here
We leavin' proof, that there ain't been no justice here
My hood.

Chorus: Carolyn:
Throw your hood up
All my G's represent
Turn up your deck
Dope House click came to wreck.

(Lucky Luciano: Verse 5)
Came to wreck it. Huh?
Look up in the sky. Is it A Bird or A Plane?
Naw Superman is arrived here to save the damn day
Flyer than a pelican, leanin' off medicine
Johnny pay checks slash player made Mexican
There's my introduction, now let me start stuntin'
Blue and yellow diamonds on teeth, baby I'm bubblin'
Up like crack, Luck strike back
Wreckin' all these mic's got my money on stack
Hold up, come dust me off pass me the weed all right
Now mix me up some zip but baby don't put too much Sprite
I'm a tip stacker, swang a big Lac'a
Watchin' Andy Milonakis in my den on big plasma
Addicted to Henne and that strip club shit
Tell them hoes of the jump I'm a pimp you dumb bitch!
Sent to wreck and get a check
Turn up your deck, this dope
We iced up and priced up and crawlin' in Benzo's.

(Powda: Verse 6)
7:24' I be sackin' them digits
'Cause I'm a hustle till I die & I'm in it to win it
Makin' my paper independent, got 7 years in it
Dope House platinum eyes, nigga that's when we finish
Man it's a dirty game but yet I shine so clean
Nigga whatever you need and puff, now holla at me
Whether I'm hustlin' on the side or I'm droppin' these verses
I got a service for you hoes, just watch me disperse it
And I be hurtin' 'em when I pull up in a big body
They be followin' me, stockin' like the paparazzi
So fuck a hater they just mad, they can't shine like me
I got the 15's 10 inch reclined on screens
And I'm a fine dime piece, I be sharp as a crease
Quick to get it poppin' like water in hot grease
And it ain't nothin' new, it's just the same old shit
Another day, another dollar, another case to catch.

Chorus: Carolyn:
Throw your hood up
All my G's represent
Turn up your deck
Dope House click came to wreck.

(Rasheed: Verse 7)
Philly to South Park met him at Hillwood
Graduate 88, H-Town we still hood.
Remember me in the Hustle Town?
I let the Mary Go Round put the hustle down
'If yous' a Jane user
Throw your hands in the air' on this track SPM is the producer
Riddla' standin' On Da' Roof
Drop the flows in the booth
And drop the top on the coupe
Ain't no stoppin' the dude
My team makin' currency
Got 'em screamin' Dope House out in Germany
Rasheed #1 soldado
Puffin' on an avocado
With my foot up on the throttle
And a bottle of the Bourbon 'cause I swerve in the low-low
Solo' fo' sho' homies gettin' more dough
Sleepin' is for dreamers on the block like block
Throw your hood up, throw your hood up
Let it drop!

(Grimm: Verse 8)
Cadillac driver, up and down the slab maine
Cousin, man is nothin' but supreme in my gas tank
Tippin' on the fast lane, chuggin' on some top flight
Grindin' shinnin' blindin' like a spot light
Swangin' on them cops like Cuttie that's Graimmy
Yeah they might want us, but they won't get behind me
Now I'm doin' 90, all gas no breaks
Fuckin' with your boy, get your punk ass hoe faced
Drop you like a dope case, faster than a pony kick
Nigga beat your feet, kick some rocks with that homey shit
Most the time we loadin' clips
Otherwise we holdin' chips
Hittin' scores, kickin' doors
Pimpin' whores, rollin' whips
So we dip stun and we slide to them Screw tapes
Pistol in the waist line, money in the suit case
Drop it in a cool place
Everything's gravity
This is for streets 'cause my hood is my family.

Chorus: Carolyn:
Throw your hood up
All my G's represent
Turn up your deck
Dope House click came to wreck.

(Quota: Verse 9)
You can call me Mr. Break-a- Brick, take a trip
Tape a thousand grams to the bumper, Man and make it flip
I'm an interstate veteran, pedal to the max
I see the federal for my stash, my Beretta on my lap
'Cause I'm a street hustler, 20,000 miles just this summer
Ever since the 1st day of June, nappin' on a cama
Got that Boomerang glow, once I throw it in the pot
Is comin' right back I promise, dawg I'm blowin' up the spot
Listen, it's only me I got a million dollar corner
Fed's tap my house phone and they still out of order
I'm the son of a preacher man, mama knows I'm thuggin'
And I should have been a chef the way I cook crack up your oven met
Teachers taught us 'Just say no.' I had to hustle though
Even that I stayed broke, didn't want to struggle so
Buy half & 8 ball, hit the block runnin'
Thought the world was mine till I saw the cops comin'
And it's too late.

(Low-G: Verse 10)
My homey died and the cops called it drug related
I was standin' right there when his mother fainted
And I felt trapped, 'cause I know I gotta choose fate
I grabbed my nina and made that bitch lose weight
Since 88 with a nick in my tube socks
I been a G since you was tryin' to do the moonwalk
I'm from a place that they call Hondura's
Nothin' fake about my life except my car insurance
Bullet proof vest, my jefa sense stress
Nothin' positive about me, except my piss test
I grew up in a house full of empty stomachs
While other kids was at McDonald's gettin' 20 nuggets
And I'm known all across the ghetto's
Boy you think the fuckin' law, so don't pawn my huelo's
My chrome spits & I know to chase hoe clicks
Nate at the club dancin' with a glow sticks.

Throw your hood up
All my G's rep...

Pain interrupts chorus:

(Breakdown 1: Pain and Carolyn)
Pain : Carolyn.
Carolyn : Yeah what?
Pain : Uhm ... Los said he didn't want a hook at the end of the song.
Carolyn : Oh. You mean one at the end of the song?
Pain : Yeah, everybody's already done their rap that's the whole Dope House Family.
Carolyn : What you mean everybody? What about mine?
Pain : Girl you don't know how to rap.
Carolyn : Jaime, you got me fucked-up!
Pain : Okay... I'll let you try, but if Los doesn't like it I have to take you off.
Carolyn : Just tell me when to come in.
Pain : Right... right... now.

(Carolyn: Verse 11)
I ain't gon' lie Dope House till I die
With my niggas in the studio, chillin' gettin' high
Rollin' up sweets, breakin' these beats
Sippin' on skurrup and it slur my speech
Comin' out the H, where they bake cakes
I ain't talkin' 'about the kind that your mama makes
I need a little space, Texas is the place
Ya tu saves homes, I'm a represent my race
New to the scene, but not to the game
Blowin' purple skun and is fuckin' with my brain
Tryin' to stack change, up to the ceilin'
Lookin' out the window another neighborhood killin'.
When will they chill? I don't really know
Keepin' my mind on a 6 double O
Rims dripped in chrome and Benz dripped in paint
Just can't stop like a car with no brakes.
Okay!

Pain : Man you wrecked.
Carolyn : I told you fool.