Barbecue Smoke

Throw the horns in the air Backyard smoke in my clothes Las

Palomas on the road Westlake fight on a Friday night

P Terry's cup and the headlights bright Horse ranch dust on the

bottom of my jeans Mateo laughing like he know what I mean

Bro low talk but the trunk sit high Saba on deck and

the crew outside Shots fired somewhere,

everybody froze Then Los Hitters rolled and the whole block knows

Throw the horns, let it ring,

let it rise Barbecue smoke and the fire in our eyes From

Westlake to the south side road

We came deep, now the whole town knows Throw the horns,

let it ring, don't fold Dust on the boots and the grill

on gold

Las Palomas buzzing, table full of plates P Terry's after midnight,

talking through the gates Mateo said move,

so we moved with pace Bro low in the cut with that

look on his face Saba kept count,

every car that passed Horse ranch dirt still stuck from the grass

If it gets tense,

keep your people close Los Hitters with me and we do the

most Hold that line Hands up high Smoke in the wind We

still ride

Hold that

line

All night long

Throw the horns, let it ring,

let it rise Barbecue smoke and the fire in our eyes From

Westlake to the south side road We came deep,

now the whole town knows Throw

the horns, let it ring,

don't fold Dust on the boots and the grill on gold Throw

the horns Throw the horns All night All night