Lyrics:
Yea Cashville, the city that raised me
Belt buckle of the south city that pays me
The beats elevated everyone around me faded
Ridin through the city
pouring on drank
So F what you think, just a playa trying to make a few ends
But really ain't ish then changed
Can't complain, Outkast of the south, somehow
and ali and yea we still together
thru the stormiest weather
its been along forever
holding it down in the south
surrounded by the southern alps
with
tres like everyday
Palm trees blue skies ganstas and goons
Where parties dont stop till the next afternoon
Welcome to Miami where they Hustle hey
Don't, don't, don't
Ayy, ayy
Don't stop
Ayy
She said shit don't stop, tears don't stop
At home scared, so the fear don't stop
Speakin'
half the times we flaunt 'cause trouble
My closest road dog it was cool 'cause I love you
F*** what they talkin' bout
Let me take you back in time,
f*cking them,
Well, I’ll be f*ckin’ em, said you wanna, nothing man,
Stop all to judgin’ , man, all the custom, man,
Before I …when you try to touch your
cause the block is hot
Where I'm from, we don't run from cops
Green light, red light, we don't stop
We keep on going, hogging all four lanes
Watch out for
Street
or Silk Lane in South Philly
And on, et cetera
Check it out, check it out
[Chorus: The Roots]
Here on this agenda, there is no pretenders
So
me or thankful that I'm by her side
But inside I just cry
I just cry
I just
Ay, I've been running South all night long
(I've been running South
of Kankakee
The waters of the creek ripple on by
And I've been known to throw the occasional fly
Whisky on the front porch always feel it free to stop by
VFW
the fellas
East, West, North, South
My style is really outrageous
And when you hear the song it's really contagious
It's simple enough, be understood by
woman and kids
B**** n****s stop b****in' it's just how it is
Now watch me let that sexy Nina kiss you by my ribs
You won't be satisfied till I send
like Beyonce
I done forgot about fiance, blowin' smoke up in the air
Table dances by my chair
Get something now
I'm hot from New Orleans
Weezy F
23, I come back
And I got 23 on my Jordans
23, I come back
And I got 23 on my Jordans
23 in my MAC
And I won't stop 'til I'm balling
23, I come
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
screaming (Oh Yea)
Had to get right Do the dirt by myself
I only get me and nobody else (No Telling)
I had to finesse running off with the pack
The plug
annoyed yeah (I'm annoyed)
All these little bitches acting coy yea
Hop in a cab and we’ve got a convoy yea
One stop two stop three stop (Stop it)
One stop
down and out I been up before I been down before
Tryna chase these dreams by all means that’s on everything
F’s in school I’m effing cool f’s for foo
abangani bami
South-side na abangani bami
(x2)
Pre-Verse: Group
All my n*ggas getting paid, if you're broke, get away
(x4)
Verse: Riky Rick
Okay,
throw a case back
From the K where the g*** do spray at
6 First and the worst where they stay at
South side, where they don't play at
My guys b*** c***
the barbed fence
Get over the pile of strange fruit, with the nappy headed slave stench
Think my people fear that faded rebel flag
The south new slavery wasn’t
want you to behave
Do the same yeah they want zombies to double as slaves
Oblivious to you but the media's
Owned by a privileged few
Don't believe me
I
work for F-E-D-S
And plays his recorder
You think he placing he taping his order
Marking the bills they read,
Tasting the waterf***ed up
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