Artist: Goodie Mob Album: Soul Food Song: Dirty South
One to da two da three da four Dem dirty Red Dogs done hit the door And they got everybody on they hands and knees And they ain't gonna leave until they find them keys
Now if dirty Bill Clinton fronted me some weight Told me to keep two, bring him back eight And I only brought him five and stuck his ass for three Do you think that Clampett will sick his goons on me? See Martel Homes, that's my claim to fame That's where I learned my slickest trick in the dope-d-game Like my favorite, I call it lemon head delight That's when you lick off all the yellow and you sell the white
Right, well if pimpin' be a sport I be bein' the wide receiver That nigga B-I-G will make ya'll niggas believers Sippin' on Cuervo Gold off in the club drunk as fuck Callin' them hoes bitches, and smokin' my weed up When I'm too sober, year older, now I'm almost legal Wanted to live the life of Cadillacs, Impalas and Regals Fuckin' around wit hoes, bustin' nuts in they mouths Kickin' that same southern slang Lookin' for love off in yo' jaw ho!
See powder gets you hyper, reefa makes you calm Cigarettes give you cancer, woo woo's make you numb What you niggas know about the Dirty South What you niggas know about the Dirty South
See never did I thank when I got grown That some pee wee sacks had been done took dis town See life's a bitch then you figure out Why you really got dropped in the Dirty South See in the 3rd grade this is what you told You was bought, you was sold Now they sayin' Juice left some heads cracked I betcha Jedd Clampett want his money back See East Point Atlanta threw this road block Talkin 'bout all this blow traffic got to stop So the big time players off John Freeman Way Had to find themselves another back street to take Cause back in the day we was outta control We didn't understand, "Naw nigga, that money ain't' yours" That's when me and Big Slate took an oath and sweared Never would we talk, never would we tell So when they pulled up bumpin' "Rock The Bells" We took what we want and left them quiet as hell
What you niggas know about the Dirty South What you niggas know about the Dirty South
Now that Cobras got tha boys on Delowe on they back Gipp holler at Miss Ann she said they didn't get the trap Behind tha black, behind green, behind tha red tint Dealers breakin off that blow up for those woodchips A lot of faces ain't around, a lot of folks got shot Scatta Mack droppin' G's while that Cristal pop Been on tha grind with Cool Breeze, droppin' pounds with B Eric Neal is tha coolest from my century Mack town keeps growing, old school like Charles Stankin' like dem Lincolns in Piedmont Park Perry Homes to Herndon Homes, to all tha Homes Adamsville to Poole Creek, shit just don't sleep in tha Dirty South
One to da two da three da four Dem dirty Red Dogs done hit the door And they got everybody on they hands and knees And they ain't gonna leave until they find them keys
See powder gets you hyper, reefa makes you calm Cigarettes give you cancer, woo woo's make you numb What you niggas know about the Dirty South What you niggas know about the Dirty SouthTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
