(*talking*)
  Yeah, I go by the name Lil Flip
  (that's right), me and my nigga Greg Street
  It's from Texas, to ATL, yeah
  
  [Lil Flip]
  (on my block), them niggas jamming Flip and 'Face
  And don't nobody have muscles, but we all moving weight
  (on my block), where the dopefiends let you rent they car
  And if you got the biggest rocks, you the neighborhood star
  So holla at a nigga, when you get your check
  And if it's 800 dollars, you about to triple that
  (on my block), we staying up playing dominoes
  And we got boosters in the hood, that be selling fake clothes
  That's how the game go, when you living in my city
  And niggas in the hood, they don't show no pity
  So don't act hot seditty, when you see me at a show
  And the reason we don't hang, cause you act like a hoe
  (on my block), the little kids they be smoking weed
  And if you go to sleep, they coming to steal your ten speed
  I'm from the C to the L-O-V-E-R-Land
  And where I'm from (Cloverland), bitch I'm the man
  
  [Hook]
  On my block, everybody on the corner hustling
  On my block, niggas pulling up on them buttons
  On my block, we getting that money fa sheezy
  I cant leave freestyling alone, the game need me
  
  [Lil Flip]
  (on my block), you might see my nigga Greg Street
  In a black G-Wagon, or that black Bentley
  Or you might see my nigga, C-Note in the drop
  You might see my nigga, Will-Lean on the block
  You might see my nigga, Rebel at the Chop Shop
  You might see my nigga D, at the Barber Shop
  You might see my niggas, on Groden shooting hoops
  Or you might see my nigga T.A.Z., rolling in a Coupe
  You might see my nigga Dre, from S.A
  Or you might see my nigga Ken, at Quickway
  Or you might see the cops, just rolling through the hood
  Trying to bust another nigga, when they see you living good
  
  [Hook]
  
  [Lil Flip]
  You got dope dealers and crackheads, with bumps in they face
  We drive fo' wheelers on flat beds, so nigga let's race
  And we can't catch a case, cause we got the best lawyers
  And I spit dead in your face, now that's some gangsta shit for ya
  And to my fans, who really buy my shit
  I appreciate the love, cause y'all made me rich
  And if it wasn't for y'all, I wouldn't be shit
  So I'ma hold this shit down, for the Screwed Up Click
  
  On my block, ha-ha, ha-ha