[Intro:] Yea it’s your boy Lil Wyte. I ain’t never gave a fuck, you know me. Boy got no license warrants probation, all kinds of shit, tags expired fuck em. They ain’t gonna get me, I’ma keep doing my thang. Got work in my sock, glock on the seat, we ain’t playin with em. You have to catch me pimp. Come on catch me!
[Chorus x2:] Ridin’ dirty got this weed in my sock on the seat a plastic glock, ah shit I see the cops (yep!) They lookin’ they lookin’ the candy got’em lookin oooh! They lookin’ they lookin’ the candy got’em lookin oooh!
[Verse 1:] I’m binning through the Bay, and I’m white as a ghost Candy Chevy brown rag lookin’ like some French toast Got knock in the back, big rims and limo tint It don’t matter ‘cause the po-pos they know who’s up in it It’s me W-Y-T-E flickin’ down your block Got some weed in my sock and on my seat a plastic glock And it’s cocked ready to go, ready to blow in the battle field If the bullet don’t put you down, the beating from the handle will I’m riding dirty like Chamillitary and they’re hating Police sitting on the next block and they’re waiting For me to try leave the hood and jump right back on the slab If it was up to the cop for this lil cracker they would have to grab
[Chorus]
[Verse 2:] Now I’m riding down I-40 doing 85 Snatching four lanes trying to make the interstate mine I was just in the Bay where the police are hot as hell On my way to my side of town, fuck it might as well Jump off the slab and get a box of grape swishers, A two by four, a buzz tatorlow and chicken livers I left the Chevy crunk and the alarm on Jumped back in pedal to the medal straight to Shelby Farms Beating with my Xanax man, dealing with the man in advance Trying not to be served attention in this stranded land But they lookin’, they lookin’ the candy got’em lookin’ oooh I’m pushing and booking and cooking like some Cajun food bitch.