Kenneth Doniell Moore was born in Houston, Texas on August 20, 1974, and he grew up in southeast Houston. He graduated from Yates High School in 1992 and he was a former high school football star.
As one of the founding members of the "Original Screwed Up Click," Big Moe started out in music by freestyling on DJ Screw mixtapes before being signed to Wreckshop Records. Wreckshop Records released Big Moe's debut album, City of Syrup in (2000); the title a nod to Houston's reputation for drinking codeine-laced syrup, which Moe pours from a Styrofoam cup on the album's cover. "City of Syrup" album featured the single, "Mann!", which Moe intended to be The South Side's answer to Black Rob's East Coast hit "Whoa!". A year and half later, Moe returned with his second album, Purple World in (2002). This release showcased a Who's Who of Houston vocalists and two versions of Moe's breakthrough single, "Purple Stuff." The Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory-themed video for "Purple Stuff" was played on MTV and the album ranked as high as No. 3 on Billboard's Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart. Big Moe's third and last album, Moe Life, was issued in 2003, including the commercially successful single "Just a Dog." A posthumous album entitled Unfinished Business was released on March 18, 2008 via Wreckshop Records and Koch Records. In 2009 his album City Of Syrup was named number 25 on houstonpress.com's list of the 25 Best Houston Hip Hop Albums.
Moe died on October 14, 2007 at 33 years old, after suffering a heart attack one week earlier that left him in a coma.
S.U.C.
Big Moe Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Screwed Up Click, my click of G's
Ah you got to feel that player M-O-E
Rolling with the Los, running with the codeine
And we about break, so take all you can
[Hawk]
Screwed up, what, chest be looking booed up
Brighten the mood up, when I'm spitting this all
Above the law, coldest nigga you ever saw
Stay there, outlaw hand me up the state
I infiltrate your chest stain and increase the death rate
Don't hate, my, it only makes us madder
Pockets get fatter, then a only makes them say matter
Squash all the chatter in the southern region
I pledge of allegiance to my niggas not breathing
We all still breathing screaming S.U.C.
And that's the story mafios, and P-A-T
Niggas can't see me cause I'm rougher than most
You boys are like bread not butter and toast
They can't even come close, they done already told ya
Like the H-A-W-K and a screwed up soldier
[Chorus]
[Big Moe]
See when we floss our candy rides
Screens keep falling from the sky
Players ball and we stay true
And if you want to test my click
I pop problems what you get
S.U.C. and we god damn fools
We got that purple sticky dank
Chased with purple sticky drank
And forever we gone bang screw
Oh it's the Screw in us, we gone represent with pride
It's the Screw in us till we die
[Chorus]
[Lil' Keke]
Devastating and motivating it's the S.U.C.
Showing and blowing up since the year 93'
Everybody be claiming the click, they want to be down
Wait to trip, on a flip through H-Town
Let's take it back, cause you know we love that
Poppi in the gray lay with the with the fifth on the back of the lac
You know we ride chrome everyday
Having the ghetto dreams like my nigga P-A
We crossed inside and forever we glide
And one thing's for sure man southside's riding
Let's get this cheddar, you got your wood and your leather
Sitting tall on boys pushing dubs or better
This a click full of g's, so we do it with these
Keep the block on pop and the ice on freeze
Mo yo, and Keke for real it don't stop
S.U.C. took a mission on down to Wreck shop, come on
[Chorus]
Screwed up click, gone keep it true
Oh P-A to, that DJ Screw
We gone morne you so deep for you
And I want to say to you, without you fool
The song S.U.C. by Big Moe, Hawk, and Lil' Keke is a tribute to the Screwed Up Click, which is a Houston-based hip hop collective formed by DJ Screw in the early 1990s. In the chorus, they describe the group as a click filled with G's who are all about codeine and breakin' rules. Hawk's verse is dedicated to describing how he's the coldest person you'll ever see and how he's above the law. He also pledges allegiance to his fellow Screwed Up Click members who have passed away. Big Moe's verse describes how they floss in their "candy rides" and how they represent the Screwed Up Click till they die. Lil' Keke's verse talks about how the group has been devastating and motivating since 1993 and how they keep it true to themselves.
Line by Line Meaning
Screwed Up Click, my click of G's
My group of gangsters is called the Screwed Up Click
Ah you got to feel that player M-O-E
You have to recognize the talent of Big Moe
Rolling with the Los, running with the codeine
I'm cruising with the locals and consuming codeine
And we about break, so take all you can
We’re close to our limits, so take all you can get
Screwed up, what, chest be looking booed up
My screwed up chest is looking like it’s bruised up
With the chemistry it's brewed up tracks get chewed up
Our camaraderie is a potent mixture that destroys tracks
Brighten the mood up, when I'm spitting this all
I cheer up people’s moods when rapping like this
Above the law, coldest nigga you ever saw
I live outside the law and I’m the most ruthless man you've seen
Stay there, outlaw hand me up the state
I’ll remain a renegade, keep giving me the dope
I infiltrate your chest stain and increase the death rate
Your chest will be stained if I get in it and you won't be long for this world
Don't hate, my, it only makes us madder
Don't hate on me, it only makes me angrier
Pockets get fatter, then a only makes them say matter
My pockets get heavier, and it only strengthens their relevance
Squash all the chatter in the southern region
End all the small talk in the southern part of the country
I pledge of allegiance to my niggas not breathing
I pledge my loyalty to my comrades who've passed away
We all still breathing screaming S.U.C.
We're all still alive, shouting out Screwed Up Click
And that's the story mafios, and P-A-T
That’s how we roll, mafia-style with P-A-T
Niggas can't see me cause I'm rougher than most
Guys can’t be on my level, I’m tougher than them
You boys are like bread not butter and toast
You look good, but you’re not the real deal
They can't even come close, they done already told ya
They’re not even close to challenging us, people already know it
Like the H-A-W-K and a screwed up soldier
Just like me, H-A-W-K and a screwed up soldier
See when we floss our candy rides
When we show off our candy-colored cars
Screens keep falling from the sky
Our TV screens are so big they seem to fall from the sky
Players ball and we stay true
We play around but we’re always true to our roots
And if you want to test my click
If you want to take on my group
I pop problems what you get
I’ll cause trouble, and you'll get what you deserve
S.U.C. and we god damn fools
Screwed Up Click, we are reckless fools
We got that purple sticky dank
We're in possession of that strong, sticky weed
Chased with purple sticky drank
Drinking that strong, codeine-laced drink
And forever we gone bang screw
And we’ll stay loyal to DJ Screw forever
Oh it's the Screw in us, we gone represent with pride
DJ Screw's legacy lives in us, and we’re proud to represent it
Devastating and motivating it's the S.U.C.
We are both formidable and effective: we are the Screwed Up Click
Showing and blowing up since the year 93'
We’ve been making waves and progressing since ’93
Everybody be claiming the click, they want to be down
Everyone is coveting a spot in our group
Wait to trip, on a flip through H-Town
Wait until you see us cruising around Houston
Let's take it back, cause you know we love that
Let's reminisce, because that's always fun
Poppi in the gray lay with the with the fifth on the back of the lac
I’m driving around in a grey car with a gun on the backseat
You know we ride chrome everyday
We drive shiny chrome cars every day
Having the ghetto dreams like my nigga P-A
We dream of better and more prosperous lives like P-A did
We crossed inside and forever we glide
We’re pushing forward and cruising towards the future
And one thing's for sure man southside's riding
One thing's for sure, people in the south are always riding
Let's get this cheddar, you got your wood and your leather
Let's make some money, you've got your weed and your leather car seats
Sitting tall on boys pushing dubs or better
We’re driving around in big, fancy cars with large rims
This a click full of g's, so we do it with these
We’re a group of gangsters, so we do it with guns
Keep the block on pop and the ice on freeze
Keep the block lit with music and freeze jewels on our bodies
Mo yo, and Keke for real it don't stop
Me and Keke go on and on for real, it never stops
S.U.C. took a mission on down to Wreck shop, come on
The Screwed Up Click were on a mission to take over Wreck Shop, let's do it
Screwed up click, gone keep it true
The Screwed Up Click will always stay true
Oh P-A to, that DJ Screw
Oh P-A and DJ Screw
We gone morne you so deep for you
We'll mourn you deeply for you
And I want to say to you, without you fool
And I want to tell you, without you, fool
Lyrics © BLEUNIG MUSIC, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: ALEX JOHNSON, ASWAD W SAMPSON, DERRICK HAYNES, KENNETH MOORE, RALPH MAC DONALD, WILLIAM WITHERS, Bill Withers, John Hawkins, Marcus Edwards, Oswald Sampson, Ralph Macdonald, William Salter
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