Lyrics:
Yea, so we got this tune called "for women" right
Originally, it was by nina simone
She said it was inspired by, you know
Down south, in the south,
Yaowa
Uh huh
Let me learn you somethin
Real quick ya heard
Check uh
Another day another dollar
Keep it hush
Like my dog's bark collar
Wealth is quiet
me a radio station playing something fast and I turned it up real
loud
And if I'm not over you by the time I get to Georgia
Then I'll be Alabama
Where were you when I reached out for you
I needed you and you left me by myself
So if I'm gonna get it done, I'ma do it myself
See real didn't recognize
connect and a Georgia Team
My life is juicy nigga
It was all a dream
It's my house so I'm a ask you to leave
I'm like carbon-dioxide
Cause I don't want
it in my eyes
I ain't playin' wit 'em homie
Yeah I'm strapped when I ride
You real nigga yeah he keep it way hood
To govern a bitch, I make Georgia
the real A)
In '88, Miami boys came tried to take the city
They had to wait, their price was great but Techwood wasn't with it
They bought they MAC-10s
touched the stove
I told my bitch "You mine's now, you ain't gotta work
Just keep it real and let's go spend the mils"
Cartier frames, call me four
We Field boys, we soldiers, representin' Georgia
It's Da' Durty, Da' Durty, dirty
Da' Durty, boy, it's real in the field
It's Da' Durty, Da' Durty,
rottin' niggas, we takin' over
We Field boys, we soldiers, representin' Georgia
It's Da' Durty, Da' Durty, dirty
Da' Durty, boy, it's real in the field
diss it, while real hop-hippers listen
Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your partner
Gather your thoughts (ninety-six gon' be that year)
diss it, while real hop-hippers listen
Started by Afrikan Bambaata, so you and your partner
Gather your thoughts (ninety-six gon' be that year)
talkin' shit (shit)
But this ain't what the fuck you want
Locked my CEO up
Now it's back to coca'
Niggas talkin shit bruh
Hang him by the ropa
Hit
talkin' shit (shit)
But this ain't what the fuck you want
Locked my CEO up
Now it's back to coca'
Niggas talkin shit bruh
Hang him by the ropa
Hit
what?
Can't be a joke I've been through too many games
Niggas laugh, but my expression wasn't hardly the same
Show me respect 'cause it's due, you keep
hoes and buyin' them gifts (trick ass)
You mad when you find out some other niggaz get it
Ain't payin' no bills just stayin' real and still be hittin'
talking Water Street
And yeah I come from A-Town, that city that's golden
And you know we got that Spam brand that keeps the money flowin' (it's flowin')
thoed
Got the world body rocking fa sho so
Tell the DJ to screw it down for me real slow
Let's get it crunk let's make it jump
H-A-Dub on keep it pump
somewhere that we could never go
No tracks by the rov from apolo
The landers scotch tape, foil, and poles
The earth should look bigger than the moon in its
doper than the fluid cellur
I flip it all up by myself
I give my niggas recipes
So they can turn to something else
They love to work
That's why I
dance like bachata
ARP from New York it go "Gra Gra"
Walk down look at his face fuck a Drive by
Fuckin' on yo bitch now she mine say "bye bye"
These
protection for the boss
Rollin` in my double, raw, rugged, and ruthless
Keep a vest through these hard times, knowin` it`s useless
And my crew, who could
I’on plan on it
My city living like American Horror
Hit Miami just to flex in the harbor
My lil cutie getting sexy in Georgia
Know some shooters by
of the food chain
Keep the crown clown I rock a L.A. Dodger fitted
Showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down wit' it
Now the ball's in my court never
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