But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
Puttin it in your face, and that's for real
Everytime I'm comin out, niggaz they wanna sign me
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
That's how we be ridin, alligator suitcasin
Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Trunk hit fo' life baby it's SouthSide
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
To make a million dollars out my first record deal
The boo went down to Rueben's, I'm watchin on a movie
Mo' scrilla I got, signin with Shortstop
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Blaze in the Benz and you can't forget the den
Scream and shout -- my similes and metaphors
Publishers: SHORTIE MAN PUBLISHING, SONGS OF UNIVERSAL INC
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
Bourban and I'm swervin, man it's gettin hot
Peep the message I send
A caller gettin laid tonight
Break these boys off I'ma twenty inch crawler
Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
Big bout it Benz -- as I floss through the south
I'm hot, find me lookin good, diamonds against my wood
Everything's my way, I par-le
Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches
I'm bouncin off the road I'm in a modem with them foe dem
Double doors marble floors naked hoes around me
Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller
From K.C. to H-Town, connectin SouthSide
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
Songwriters: Willie Anserson, Troy Birklett, Hawk, T Prejean, Bruce Isaac Rhodes, Yungstar
Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
Mansion doors -- I contstantly close
I only play to win -- bout to close up shop
Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top
I hit the highway
Big blue lens -- now whatcha talkin about?
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
Chain with the chong, can't forget Moet along
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
Mo' thugs in the pound, you know it's goin down
Shortstop -- puttin up your motherfuckin ear
Octane hauler, not a leader not follower
Hittin, my remote, sittin, in my shit
187 Thugs, oh yeah we got love
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
I gots to get better man, it gots to move on
Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
I'ma -- baller, I'ma twenty inch crawler
Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
All you hoes -- go and take off your clothes
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Commence to fuckin and-a suckin on the H.A.W.K
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Candy-red, two-do', let my top down slow
So nigga nigga what? I'm down with my own thugs
Sittin' Fat Down South, rollin Benz on blocks
Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
Shinin harder than the grill it's the player Lil' Will
And that's for real, so tell me how you feel
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
Had to get older -- man it got colder
Take these levels that you devils can't comprehend
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
It don't quit, as I get high
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Drop the top it's cotton, and you know I'm in a ja'causezi
Man it's understood -- got money in my hood
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
I'ma go real slow -- puffin indo out the do'
Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers?
Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
Fat Pat blowin killa, can't be denied
A caller gettin laid tonight
A caller gettin laid tonight
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
Really really don't give a fuck and I ain't drinkin on no beer
Boys can't stop as I slide through your neighborhood
Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
Lord knows -- ain't no time to play
Boys don't understand virtual reality Caravan
My last name Lemmon, drive my tight'um off the lot, David Taylor
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY
I'ma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto'
We on a fuckin mission Expedition Navigator
Everyday all day, ain't no way
Bust a left, a right, I'm outta sight I'm throwed
I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
Close yo' mouth -- as I settle all scores
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
I'm pushing big body can't stop me
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
I'ma lit the stash green, man I'm lookin clean
Showstoppin dead end, pimp the pen once again
Blowin sticky green we flow through and above
Tiny tune -- hop out my big body form
For the nine-eight got to sell a million copy