Lyrics:
cheap, where they quick to fill you with them slugs
It's nothin', I'm from New York but I got country cousins
It's nothin', you stay connected by
sire
Thought you was on top
(I'm tha King)
I pass right by ya
I will not stop and I won't retire
I came, I saw, I conquered with no big names
(I'm tha
like I'm Mariachi all I want is bands
Baby why you mad? Baby why you sad?
20 dollar shoes and I'm gonna hit my dance
Running to the max, make a couple
even
Murda what she wrote
When this choppa
Bus Get to singing
All my niggahs
Bout it
I'm only rocking
With demon
Skeeming
Type to get
You gone
By
they're trying to do with radio, with this, uh, McCarron-Walter
Act and a lot of other ways, is start by saying that they're
protecting the public from
nigga, you can't fuck with me, got power like I'm ghost
In the booth, this shit come off the head, none of my shit be wrote (on God)
You can hug me, but
said I'm feeling positive, couple of bands on my check depositing
Saying wagwan to my Rastaman no, I don't speak Jamaican but I'm jotting it
Irie, it's
a south side bitch
Outside
Got they mouth wide
When I ride by pretty bitch
Doing silly shit
I'm a Big Mac
And you a small fry
Big Kwa
With the good
war time
Cause we banging like the west side
We get it banging like it's bed stuy
We always leave em with a neck tie
We'll Leave em slumped by
four deep with a spliff
Pockets Bun B, I got bread, it make me limp
I been walkin' sideways, that heater on my hip
Made it out the dog days, I'm a dog,
sell ya bitch
I count my bread in advance, I don't need help with it
I pour the lean by the ounce, never a drought
I'm just scoring like the Answer
rubber bands
Baby stop by the store, I need rubber bands
Baby stop by the store, I need rubber bands
Baby stop by the store, I need rubber bands
Rubber
the baggage
Old adage, know I'm the whole package
Woah
Got the south side by the neck, uh woah
I got my foot pressed up on the gas, uh woah
So who the real
from the south (playaz from the south ? ? ? gs)
That muthafuckin g
I got beats by the pound, just like quarter keys
Klc put it on the scale so y'all
, thank God
Is still the same
And this Boston girl says she likes it
Down here
Lovin' by the river bank with ol' Hank
'Cause the new south, thank God
Is
they're trying to do with radio, with this, uh, McCarron-Walter
Act and a lot of other ways, is start by saying that they're
protecting the public from
as crawling
Subs still beat up the trunk as if they were sponsored by Spalding
Bending corners, blowing swishers, stacking figgas with my hittas
If I'm not then
in the shower
I even sang in the band, I sang my soul would recoup
At 25, I went to South Africa with my church group
Started off as church business, I
with a down south rump
California face with a down south rump
California face with a down south rump
Ba, ba, baby girl scrumptious, uh uh she dumb
with some punk rockers
She my runnin' back, player
I'm the quarterback
Send her down to Meh-hico
She bringing me the border back
Excuse me miss, what's
it's always a little more convenient to
Play it with a Southern accent. And bands like
Lynyrd Skynyrd attempted to show another side of
The South One
Brother
Brother
Brother
I'm a South Indian macha, brown-skinned in my colour
Found infinite, crowned intellect, cow sensitive brother
I'm a South
Bands in my pocket
Yea they pulling down my jeans
I know all these hoes loving me and my knots
I ain't fucking with you
If you ain't about the guap
Its
I'm in the middle of the jungle
Liberty Road
They pushin' O's by the bundles
Pimpin' these hoes on this and that
Tryna get 'em a check
H Town
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