[Intro: Propain]
Yeah, yeah
(X.O. think he all that) Yeah
Shit really a lifestyle, y'know what I'm sayin'? Yeah
Real H-Town shit, know what I'm talm' bout? Yeah
They say the time goes by, puffin' on lye
Man, just hopin' that it get 'em high
Got a n***a goin' crazy, yeah
Crazy, yeah (Mane)

[Verse 1: Propain]
It's H-Town, ho
A new slab was all he ever known to grind for
N***as droppin' fours up in they cup, it move the time slow
Swangin' lane to lane look like he drivin' with a blindfold
Choppin' foreign tops, and all these hoes'll have your mind blown
Flawless diamonds in they mouth, these thousand dollar convos
Boosters got 'еm dressin' like they walkin' in dеsign shows
Rule number one: when you shinin', keep the nine close
But please don't get it twisted, nah, this shit ain't all good
Them fuckin' jackers out, them fiends is barkin' off the dog food
The young boys is wylin', n***as drawing like it's art school
Where n***as rise up, call that shit a carpool
These crooked ass laws is sendin' shots like we are barstools
See, most our homies caged and lookin' down on us from God's view
Shit, I done shed tears and I all I got to show is war wounds
One day you here, the next you X, man, like cartoons (Yeah, yeah), damn
[Chorus: Z-Ro, Propain & Sauce Walka]
I know it gets better, yeah (Gets better)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane, yeah)
We hustlin' for this cheddar, yeah
Tryna get our bread up (Just tryna get our bread up, mane)
Tryna get our bread up (Ooh-wee, ooh-wee, yeah, I'm fed up, ooh-wee, yeah)

[Verse 2: Sauce Walka & Propain]
Close your eyes and visualize Caddies customized
Eighty-fours pokin' right by the body of a homicide
He was tryna visit his brother house, he from the other side
Thought that he'll be safe from all his opps so over there, he'd hide
Well, unfortunately this splash town, where every street we slide
Took two phone calls and lil' buddy was dead right outside
N***as drinkin' theyselves straight to the feds, won't put them cups down
But a firearm, and a pint on a felon a super long ride
But how the fuck you 'posed to sell dope without your pistol?
On two-eighty-eight, you know them robbers slidin' with the missiles
They want all your rocks and crystals, your big booty lil' sister
Home of the players, yeah, they play the game a lil' thicker
N***as talk a lil' slicker, you spin me, know what I'm talm' 'bout?
Pimpin' with a super soaker, still'll punch you in your fuckin' mouth
Bad bitches on the couch, it's a fine ho at every house
Way before some BBL's, all my hoes asses was swollen out
I'm from H-Town, the same place Beyoncé came down
I'm from H-Town, I made JAY-Z drop bucks on H-Town
Everybody got a plate now, is it 'cause of me?
I just wanted to see my city all rich and free (Yeah), ooh-wee (Yeah)
[Chorus: Z-Ro & Propain]
I know it gets better, yeah (Gets better)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane, yeah)
We hustlin' for this cheddar, yeah
Tryna get our bread up (Just tryna get our bread up, mane)
Tryna get our bread up (Yeah, I'm fed up, yeah)

[Verse 3: Z-Ro & Propain]
Listen, I'm from Houston where we rather jam outta town n***as shit instead
And we don't congratulate, we hate on the n***as gettin' bread
Good health goes unnoticed, we talk about who look sick instead
And what you think is a bad bitch might be a n***a, don't get misled
Styrofoam inside a styrofoam, that's what we known for (That's what we known for)
We supposed to be on our way but we so fucked up, we just don't go
Lil' n***as 'bout fifteen years old, they swear they grown though (Haha)
Like fuck playin' PlayStation, we got a pocket full of stones, ho (Pocket full of stones)
I got some partners still stuck in 1994
I smell that shit on your clothes, I thought y'all wasn't smokin' fry no more (Goddamn)
Brother that used to be suicidal don't wanna die no more
Cause PPP loans got him at the airport about to fly your ho (To what?)
To Texas (Ayy), yeah, that's that H-Town to be exact (Be exact)
Where she don't want a relationship either, she want her freedom back (Freedom back)
Drank man still got drank, you just need to know where to meet him at (Where he at?)
Still ridin' slabs, Martin Luther King Boulevard is where you see 'em at (Yeah, ayy)
[Chorus: Z-Ro & Propain]
I know it gets better, yeah (Gets better)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane)
Gotta keep your head up (Gotta keep your head up, mane, yeah)
We hustlin' for this cheddar, yeah
Tryna get our bread up (Just tryna get our bread up, mane)
Tryna get our bread up (Yeah, I'm fed up, yeah)