Lyrics
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I woke up with my foreign car, fell in love with the Cadillac
When it come to Cadillac's straight out that Memphis
I woke up with my foreign car, fell in love with the Cadillac
When it come to Cadillac's straight out that Memphis
I woke up thinkin foreign car, but the
Cadillac got a nigga sittin in a daze
24'S sittin switch sittin sideways, straight slippin
Through the hood like I'm runnin through a maze
Find me trunk open with the top back, one
Deep in the front two freaks in the back
Haters mad at me cause I'm M.V.P. stats, better
Give me 50 deep cause I'm good with the gat
Good with the track like I'm good with the hands
5Th Tech I'm battlin like I'm battle of the bands
New Benz lights and they run about a grand, and the
Trunk full of liquor so they know that I'm the man
Me Paul Wall and a slab out of Texas
In a Cadillac had to get rid of the Lexus
Rather be gangsta tippin on somethin with
Somethin, then to get rid of the plexers
I fell in love with my Coupe DeVille
It's on us the truth's the truth for real
Scrapin the back down these Southwest streets
Got a few teeth in the grill loose for real
Beat pumps two to the front, one to the
Back, one wheel glidin I glidin like that
3-0-7 Rebuilt with all chrome, hundred
Spoke Dayton's with the two chrome's
Next week I'm in somethin from the lowrider book
Comin shorties how low does a lowrider look
Get a switch on boss get your lowrider
Took, in 98 I use to be a lowrider crook
Big wheels and dawgs Sedan DeVille's, when
I ride I'm with hand and with hand and steel
Cocked up on three and got it standin still, I'm
In the attic wonder when I'm gon land and chill
I woke up with my foreign car, fell in love with the Cadillac
When it come to Cadillac's straight out that Memphis
I'm never stayin focused, always smokin
Presidential organ always chokin, nigga I drink up all your purple
If I find that shit that shit be potent
May not get high fuck that shit
Yo baby momma out here suckin my dick
I'ma make her pay me that child support
I'm a pimp tryna make it rich, if
You really wanna get high let me know
I'll tell C.B. let you hit that blow, we can
Ride in the Cadillac way in the fuckin back
Hittin hoes just hoppin in homes, then
Take a lot of freaks to the hotel room
System on blast you can hear that boom, may I'ma pop bout two three X
And drop my drawers and take this joint
See in the M-town we snort that blow
Turn around and whoop then whoop our hoes
Take me a big gulp full of that drank
Now my heart don't know what to think
First I had 'em beatin fast, now I knock em knock em slow
Sniff a little more of this sniff a little more
Of that, leave a mill in the middle of the road
Closed up my foreign doors, opened up my American doors
Seven sedan Sedan DeVille, 84's and 20 inch vogues
Chandelier hangin from the top, fish tank lit up in the glass box
But I had to put the joint in Chevy, cause
The real wanna kick it from the King box
I woke up with my foreign car, fell in love with the Cadillac
When it come to Cadillac's straight out that Memphis
Feds home pull up in a Lac cocked up, 22 inch chrome bags popped up
Diamonds in our mouth cash stocked up
Ice game sick so the game locked up
Nine wood head wood headlights on, fifth
With the trunk but the trunk moved on
Fly through the hood with the six 12's on
Sealed in the kush super kush to the dome
19 In the game only love for my Lac
Never love me, swang swang to the left
While I'm huggin the frame try to take mine
You be huggin the stand like I'm huggin a lane
I'm the man with the Cadillac, I'm the man with
The Cadillac, I'm the man with the Cadillac
I'm the man with the Cadillac, I'm the man with
The Cadillac, I'm the man with the Cadillac
I woke up with my foreign car, fell in love with the Cadillac
When it come to Cadillac's straight out that Memphis
I'm a 24 inch black Fleetwood glider
Tipping the block, the drop's where the drop's sit wider
Lord knows haters mad when the Lac fly by
Call it what you want, but the Lac stay way live-r
I got that candy red, with extra gloss
Heads drop, when they see me floss
Tubed up Trae, on a sunny day
Holla at J-Town, and my boy Lil Boss
Trunk stay popping, and hoes stay bopping
Cause the swangers poking, and the blades stay chopping
Beeped with the Feds still watching
And the Fed-Ex truck, right down the street plottin'
Drop the top, if the sun don't shine
Sipping on something potent, puffing on pine
Slow Loud And Bangin', in the candy slab line
Down here in H-Town, it go down
Old school Chevys, and throw back Lacs
Swangers and Vogues, with a trunk that crack
This is down here in the Third Coast
Houston Texas, at the bottom of the map baby
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