Lyrics: T.I.. King. Front Back.

Ladies and gentlemen
T.I.P., aye
Fre-fre-fresh

I know a lot of y'all niggaz out there
Man who ain't up on this down South shit
Probably wonderin' what the fuck you listenin to right now, ah ah?
But it's an absolute honor and a pleasure y'know I'm sayin'?
To bring you some gangsta shit of catastrophic proportions
All the UGK alumni like myself know what this is man, hey Bun

I gotta '66 Impala so fresh
White top, burnt drop wit' the choppers on deck
Fuel exhaust, and a motor out a ninety-four 'Vette
Fish bowl, televisions pimpin' I ain't done yet

I got the checker red leather and I'm sittin' on chrome
On 26 inches just to get my roll on
One of Jeezy's songs on, make them bitches get low
I get that ass raised up, like Dr. Dre six four

Hey, come up in my hood, bet them bitches know Tip
If you tell 'em you wit' him, all them bitches gon' strip
If I show up in yo' hood, I bet you niggaz won't trip
Once I empty out this clip, I bet you niggaz gon' dip
Or get hit up in yo'

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

It's the Gulf Way Boulevard gangsta
Swangin' on T.I., S's and Fo's
Pirellis and Blades and 'em crews of hoes
I'm a playa, you can tell by how I choose my pose

When it gets to swangin' on the curb, you might lose ya toes
Dedicated to the slab, the dunks, the drops
The candy painted cars wit' the chopped off tops
Now put ya diamonds up against the wood wheel

Lean back up on ya leather, chunk a deuce, and show your grill
Keep it trill, this the South baby, Texas and GA
T.I. reppin' for Bankhead, I'm reppin' for P.A.
Now pop ya trunk, get it crunk, it's time to ride
Show them boys you got that front back and side to side baby

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

I'm switchin' lane to lane, leanin' on the switch
Sippin' on the barre, smokin' green and hittin' licks
Bumpin' Too $hort baby, in a candy red Biarritz
Drop the top and pimp the lot and watch the trunk do tricks

Pimp C, I keep my money on my mind
Keep a hooker on the track and keep a swisher full of pine
If y'know like I know, you wouldn't try it
Wanna jack me for my candy car, you must wanna die

But I don't really wanna hit ya with this hot thang
I just wanna get some brain in the turnin' lane
Comin' down creepin' slow, sippin' on a Colt fo'
Bangin' on the Screw, and keep the pistol right here in the do'

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side

Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side
Back, front back, fr-front back, fr-front back, side to side