Yeah, what’s up
It’s the one and only
The el hombre entro cable
Floyd Money Moneyweather
Houston, Trae nothing but the Truth
He is the king
Let’s talk about the money
Let’s talk about the cars
Let’s talk about the lifestyle
H Town
TMT, The Money Team
H Town, Houston
Let’s go

Wanna ride in my old school
What you wanna ride in that for?
I’m trying to get this money, man
Oh, yeah?
What you know about getting money?
See you gonna be a problem just like your older brother
I ain’t mad at you, though
Sun is out, huh?
In my old school
Guess I might as well shine on a few today
In my old school
Alright man, come on
Where my keys at?
Um, I don’t know
You don’t know?
In my old school

Gotta hit this corner, homie, real anticipating
Shit, I was getting money, a couple niggas hating
A couple bitches waiting, too, tell ‘em pick a number
Look like laguna, kinda hard to keep from going under
I`m in my old school, swinging like I`m Stevie Wonder
They say my wrists don`t make no sense, I call them Dumb and Dumber
I track your feel through half these women call me Truth Tha Runner
I keep a shooter riding with that Oklahoma thunder
When he done he switch up cities like he James Hard
You ‘bout that wood? I’d like to beg your motherfucking pardon
You better find someone to play with
I`m in my old school cooling, nigga
Better not say shit

Hit the block homie, shine on ‘em like lights
Let the ceiling take flight
In my old school
Beat the trunk on ‘em
Let the fours poke out so fuck niggas would be about
In my old school
A couple women with me, ain’t hard to see what they ‘bout
Got so much ass they can`t get out
In my old school
It ain`t no point of flexing
I grab my 6 and get money till my hustle run out
In my old school

Keep more wood than a cabin
Nigga, what`s really happening?
Paint hard as fuck, leather softer than a napkin
Yeah Tha Truth leaning corners like it`s purple rain
I`m moving slow with something floating on them purple planes
Body thick as hell, picture in the perfect frame
Lord knows I only seen her ass, I never heard her name
The black stay up, terrific king like the national champ
Real nigga exercising till I catch a cramp
Slow loud and banging when I`m itching the other chick to stand
‘Fore I pull my rank and send the word to rearrange the camp
I`m in my old school, this whip cold, fool
Earthquake, I have it beating through your soul, fool

Hit the block homie, shine on ‘em like lights
Let the ceiling take flight
In my old school
Beat the trunk on ‘em
Let the fours poke out so fuck niggas would be about
In my old school
A couple women with me, ain’t hard to see what they ‘bout
Got so much ass they can`t get out
In my old school
It ain`t no point of flexing
I grab my 6 and get money till my hustle run out
In my old school

Brown Cadillac, white Chevrolet
All day, every day
In my old school
Candy paint dripping, man, I`m never slipping
Yeah, I`m 20 crippin’
In my old school
I keep my music loud
As I move the crowd
With the windows down
In my old school
Banging that motel
Blowing Tha Dogg Pound
They tell me slow down
In my old school

Time`s awastin’, I`m gonna get it
Drop the top, lifting out city
Squat it, got it, feeling good
Rollin around my neighborhood
Bossing up, tossing up cash
Glass house, ass drag
Go to the store and get me one more
Low riders, real foe
Cali chronic is all we blow
Trae Tha Truth right from the intro
So when you get down to your last few dollars
Really wanna sell it but you don’t wanna holler
Laid, laid back, back
Lean, lean to the side
AC blowing, now you know it
How we rolling on the west side

Brown Cadillac, white Chevrolet
All day, every day
In my old school
Candy paint dripping, man, I`m never slipping
Yeah, I`m 20 crippin’
In my old school
I keep my music loud
As I move the crowd
With the windows down
In my old school
Banging that motel
Blowing Tha Dogg Pound
They tell me slow down
In my old school