Sippin' Tha Barre Lyrics - Paul Wall

Sip sippin tha barre 

Grippin tha grain 

I got 17 karrots in my piece and chains Ya'll open a map and take a trip down south 

Come on over to huston, texas welcome to the swisha house 

It's the land of the trill 

Coming straight out the block 

I got my mind on my hustle 

Im tyrna make it to the top 

So I put in work and stack at night 

Determination is all I got 

On the grind I sceme and plot 

Whatever it takes to raise my stock 

Im breaking bread out here try to survive 

On my new water with these sharks prayin I stay alive 

Im putting up numbers like garnett on that 610 south 

Aint nothing soft about my block 'cept the packs of the south 

This here that people's champ talk 

This the expressions of a g 

And ima be chasin after them g's until I R.I.P. 

Its paul wall baby 

What it do be bangin screws since '92 

Pat pat, lil kee kee, funky hawk and the rest of the crew 

So whos next on that plex 

Im flippin slab and weavin hood 

Wit'screens hanging down from the roof im ballin like a real playa should im 

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They got you thinking huston, texas the home of david carr 

But really its candy paint playas sippin on barre 

Take a ride wit a star straight outta that loone star state 

Lil michael watched the train and told me I gotta hold my weight 

Motovation is the key when you moving them keys 

Entropenuaters out the game outta 

The 713 

See one of the keys to my success 

I switched up like rick maddox 

While maintaining my composings to become one of the baddest 

I stick to the g code in my el g'est clothes 

While im tippin on 4 4 's with these scuicide doors 

I buy dro and pro pow for my dogs that died in the past 

Prayin to god I stay flow just to make this hustle last 

Its prime time im obeying the laws 

While my life is on trial 

Im tyrn knockout pieces chain and throw some ice on my smile 

Its all work and no play while im out here punching in clock 

Its hustlemania out here grinding on the block im tryna ball baby 

Photos 

From the 3rd coast trenches where the killers don't think 

Where them boys be slugged up and tatted up with that ink 

These lil cowards tryna sas and make the character of a g 

But im squashing all of that chatter keeping it real and being me 

Its g's up and marks down when im making my round 

While im up in nyc with dipset we shutting it down 

Shouts out to keenan martin holding it down in the low coast 

While im on the block grinin tryna hold my post 

Im glass house on the grill my necklace glow like toxic waste 

Im iced out like frozen food 

Sippin on the ski taste 

Im moving time on my grind 

It aint no time for playing games 

Thats why I hustle 25/8 acumulating 

This change 

I got them diamonds up against that wood grippin grain and sippin good 

Bustin time thats my hood gettin money is understood 

Im on the hustle baby all night and all day 

100 d up in my safe 

Safe to say that boy is paid