You ready to do this, nigga? You ready to come down here? It's Virginia, nigga We do this in broad daylight It's a whole different degree of homicide, nigga You ready? I'm from Virginia, where ain't shit to do but cook Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books Where we re-up, re-locate, we off them rooks So when we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look In my "Home Sweet Home" I keep chrome next to my bones Alters my walk to limpin' Since I love the feel, I guess I'm passionately pimpin' It 'tis what it seems That thing imprintin' through the seams of my jeans, by all means Lost it all, from lives to love But my faith and my money helped me rise above See I turned to the Lord when them times got tough Bullied through streets, powder I pushed and shoved In that ol' Virginny Out of ten niggas, nine are guinea No money, all they know is gimme, got semis waitin' Heat like Caribbean summers, I been there Each year, a different bitch wonder Who wing she gon' fall under, Push' or Mal' Gonz or Grimes, wit' me, with thoughts of fuckin' them cross her mind Look ma, that's right up my alley I love my family, I want them all happy In Virginia, we smirked at that Simpson trial Yeah, I guess the chase was wild But what's the fuss about? See, plenty my partners feelin' like O.J Beat murder like the shit is OK, that's what our dough say Talk the evil that men do, I'm lost in the mental I miss you Shampoo, we miss you Shampoo And your grams, too I'm from Virginia, where ain't shit to do but cook Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books Where we re-up, re-locate, we off them rooks So when we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look I'm from Virginia, where ain't shit to do but cook Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books Where we re-up, re-locate, we off them rooks So when we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look Seem like they all got a comment to make In regards to my paper, now they guessin' my weight They fast to predict the outcome of my fate Wonderin' 'bout Clipse and if they got what it take "Malice, he think he hard, tough guy of the clique And Pusha, he walk around like he swear he the shit" You right on both counts, bitch, Clipse is us And there are some things that you don't discuss Don't ask me 'bout the Neptunes and what's they fare Don't ask about the loud screamin' chick with the hair Don't ask about my music, and how that's comin' 'bout Don't ask about my album, or when's it comin' out 'Cause I feel like you really being funny on the sly Now face down, layin' on your tummy, or you die I tried being humble, humble get no respect Now the first sign of trouble, that's a hole up in your neck Plus, what I look like spendin' my nights in jail I could never be a thug, they don't dress this well I reside in VA, ride in VA Most likely when I die, I'm gon' die in VA Virginia's for lovers, but trust there's hate here For out-of-towners, who think that they gon' move weight here Ironic, the same same place I'm makin' figures at That there's the same land they used to hang niggas at, in Virginia I'm from Virginia, where ain't shit to do but cook Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books Where we re-up, re-locate, we off them rooks So when we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look I'm from Virginia, where ain't shit to do but cook Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books Where we re-up, re-locate, we off them rooks So when we pull up, it ain't shit to do but look Young'n (Talk about, what?) This is real, young'n (Talk about, what?) You lookin' into a whole different world, young'n (Talk about, what?) This is real LiveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
