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Lyrics

[Intro - heavy 808 rumble, eerie synths, chopped vocal ad-libs, low-pass filter sweep]

Yeah… Southside… crunk in the club… gang shit…

[Verse 1 - trap hi-hats rolling, menacing 808s, deep male rap, background gun-cock samples]

Pull up in the foreign, windows tinted black,
Got the Draco on the seat, ready for the pack,
Southside reppin’, diamonds on my neck flash,
Countin’ dirty money while the strippers do the back.
Bottles in the VIP, sparkles in the dark,
Haters talkin’ reckless, we gon’ leave ’em in the park,
Crunk got the city jumpin’, speakers knockin’ walls,
Chain so heavy, make the whole stage fall.

[Pre-Chorus - rising synth lead, layered ad-libs, tension build]

Club packed wall to wall, bass hittin’ chest,
Shawty throwin’ ass, she ain’t come here to rest,
We ain’t here to mingle, we just came to flex,
If you ain’t gang, better give that section back.

[Chorus - explosive crunk energy, massive 808 hits, chant-style gang vocals, distorted ad-libs]

We poppin’ bottles, we poppin’ tags,
Southside gang, we don’t do no flags,
Crunk in the club, make the whole place shake,
Trap stars live, everybody gettin’ cake.
We poppin’ bottles, we poppin’ tags,
Hunnids in the air, watch ’em do the wave,
If you ain’t gang, stay up out the way,
Trap, crunk, gang—let the whole club rage!

[Verse 2 - darker tone, pitched hi-hats, heavier bass, rapid-fire flow]

Got the plug on speed dial, re-up every week,
Bricks in the trunk, but the law can’t see,
Bad lil’ vibe, redbone, five feet,
She just want the bag, so I throw the whole piece.
Smoke in the section, purple in the air,
Opps gettin’ quiet when the stick appear,
Turn the music up, let the 808 tear,
Crunk be the language that the whole club hear.

[Chorus - explosive crunk energy, massive 808 hits, chant-style gang vocals, distorted ad-libs]

We poppin’ bottles, we poppin’ tags,
Southside gang, we don’t do no flags,
Crunk in the club, make the whole place shake,
Trap stars live, everybody gettin’ cake.
We poppin’ bottles, we poppin’ tags,
Hunnids in the air, watch ’em do the wave,
If you ain’t gang, stay up out the way,
Trap, crunk, gang—let the whole club rage!

[Outro - fading 808s, chopped & screwed vocal echoes, distant club noise]

Southside… yeah… keep it crunk…