Lyrics of 'I'm Fresh' by Boss Hogg Outlawz

[talking:]
Yeah, Young Black in the mo'fucking building nigga
Boss Hogg Outlawz what it is, this one here for all my slab riders
Pull your drop out, show these boys how we hold down South
Know I'm saying H-Town what it do, swanging and swerving and shit ay

[Young Black:]
I got the cockpit smoked out, 84's poked out
Young Black leaning, with the Gucci shades loc'd out
Drop top vogues, on European grill
Swing right break em at the light, recline my fifth wheel
It's falling like Alicia Keys, pick it up like pieces
On old school Chevrolets, Impalas and Caprices
I can't forget the Lacs, with the wood leather steering wheel
Candy paint frame, dripping stains off Sedan Devilles
I'm in my candy world, riding in my candy girl
Holla at J-Woo, let him hit me with a candy pearl
Tipping on them thangs, with the buckles on the trunk
Pumping old school E.S.G., Ocean of Funk
I'm swanging and banging, breaking off the intersection
Crossing, showing the whole world how we flossing
Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best
Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less

[Hook: x2]
I'm fresh (so fresh), in my slab so clean
Smell like a pound, of that mean joe green
Gorillas in the trunk, beating out your ass
Candy paint frame, swang down on glass

[Young Black:]
Stay flyer, than a mo'fucker
On that dro, I stay higher than a mo'fucker
In my slab crooked, on cloud nine
Till my frame touch down, on that I-4-5
Like a G I ride, one hand on my wood
Top down getting brain, like a real nigga should
As I flip through the hood, I let the boppers see my fo's twist
Lift up the do's on them hoes, leave em so sick
No shit, I'm cleaner than the White House
Beat down your block like thunder, and cut your lights off
I'm iced out, from my wrist to my mouth
To show these boys how we hold down South, I'm tal'n bout
From the grill to the ring, the the piece to the chain
The crib to the car, the wheels to the paint
Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best
Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less

[Hook x2]

[Young Black:]
I do it, for the whole hood
Cause coming down on that candy, be feeling so good
I got my pistol, tucked up under my seat
Cause real G's don't ride 3's, unless they holding the heat
And Reggie rolling the sweet, we tipping swangs through the city
Diamonds shining and tops reclining, candy paint looking pretty
That's how we do in the South, I know you boys can't understand
How I chop the block the bops come out the spot, and wave they hand
I'm the man with the killer paint, the man with the killer flow
The man with this killer jump, Cadillac on them 84's
You mad but keep hating though, you making my shine brighter
The homies still downloading, my shit off of Limewire
With glass and them vogue tires, I'm coasting the Interstate
Don't frown and just smiling, bout all this paper I'm finna make
Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best
Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less

[Hook x2]