Gangsta Grillz Lyrics - Letoya - Letoya

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up 

Tell me what y'all know about this H-town chick 

[Incomprehensible] 

I like them gangsta grillz 

Riding through like did you see those big wheels 

Pop trunk and let me feel, I got chills 

Now what you know about a baller, shotcaller 

Now won't you tell me what it do, where you from 

I'm from Houston, keeping it screwed up 

And what you used to, tippin' on 44's 

On the north they stay braided up, south faded up 

I see you with ya candypaint, do you got them dollas man 

It's all about the heavyweight, let me hear ya holla man 

Houston you know what it do, let me hear ya holla man 

LeToya just too much for you, let me hear ya holla 

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up 

Let me hear you screw it, it's Houston, H-Town 

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Makes the beat chop, chop, makes the beat chop, chop 

Makes the beat chop, makes the beat chop, H-Town 

I got a thang for them gangstas with grillz 

Top to bottom like he spendin' big skrill 

So what you into, tell me homie what's the deal 

'Cause I wanna be your baby, driving you crazy 

'Cause we act a fool where I'm from 

Houston, Texas keeping it screwed up 

And you can bet a thug is what I'm used to 

'Cause that's what I'm all about, want you to holla out 

I see you with ya candypaint, do you got them dollas man 

It's all about the heavyweight, let me hear ya holla man 

Houston you know what it do, let me hear ya holla man 

LeToya just too much for you, let me hear ya holla 

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up in H-Town, blowin' up 

Let me hear you screw it, it's Houston, H-Town 

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Makes the beat chop, chop, makes the beat chop, chop 

Makes the beat chop, makes the beat chop, H-Town 

4 tires, 4's spinning like a ceiling fan 

Seats reclined, smokin' pine with wheel in my hand 

Diamonds shinin', gangsta grill lookin' like a 100 grand 

Now that's a Texas thang, mayne you wouldn't understand 

And we got that country grammar just like the St. Lunatics 

In Texas we screwed up that's how we be doing it 

'Cause 'round here, it ain't all about account and brokers 

Boys sitting fat with stacks taller than the Alamo 

I see you with ya candypaint, do you got them dollas man 

It's all about the heavyweight, let me hear ya holla man 

Houston you know what it do, let me hear ya holla man 

LeToya just too much for you, let me hear ya holla 

It's all about the candypaint, all about the 4's mayne 

It's all about the slab baby, all about the 

Makes the beat chop, chop, makes the beat chop, chop 

Makes the beat chop, makes the beat chop, H-Town 

H-Town, H-Town