Lyrics:
tell your nigga stop it, he a fuckin' fan
Put this on my baby mama, I be fuckin' fans
Yeah, yeah, yeah, in the South of France, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah,
I'm the playboy of the south
Playboy of the south
Get that check in large amount
Getting fetti what I'm bout
2203 My route
Plaster road I make 'em
thrive
I know the road ahead will be tough
But with god by my side, I know I'll be enough
South african system keeps on failing us everyday
Nothing is
gon' stop, stop, stop
Let that beat drop
A lot of these bitches they came and they went
I got a few things I'ma get off my chest
Please don't act like
thing
Stop saying it's only blondes that I bring
Cuz I almost singed Spice
Same label as Obie Trice
You scared of f*cking lice?
Who's that girl?
rapping 'til I'm empty
I'm twenty four, in twenty more I will still wreck beats
Influenced by the South and the East and West
Trying to get more collabs
ah go stop that
The people ah go Snapchat
And post it pon them live too
But f*ck social media
And f*ck the gas price too
Say that you nuh like me
of Atlanta?
Hoe where you at
Mermaid from the flat take niggas all Over Atlanta
Hoe, stop all that
Spell souf wit a F cause fuck whoever Hate souf Atlanta
raised in the south (raised in the south)
Country folk gon' ride on out (ride on out)
Now we're back roads cruising on a two path lane
Stopping by
Uh, yeah woo! Uh, it’s going down, niggas!
Yes! Khaled! Free! Uh, uh, uh
It’s that slow flow, F-R double-E, nigga
See them pussy niggas but you
shoulda f*****d with a n***a like me a long time ago
Don't try too hard
Just take it easy
N*** hate to see ya up let em see ya
Make em down by the next
keep playing your game no more
No more
She say n***a
You're too f**ked up for my liking n***a
You should get a life stop running after me man
You think
no more laughing, shit ain't funny now (Man shit ain't funny now)
Bitch what you talking bout?
You caught me by surprise when you started moving
my phone, don't call my phone
Said I wanna be left alone, be left alone
Please, please don't stop by my home
No, no 'cause I feel it's just matter
Yeah
I don't give a f*** about ya n****, baby
That n**** weak
Aye baby, you baby
That's some good p**** we can make a new baby
F*** you in
wishing on my downfall
This for y'all man from the bottom of my heart
I sincerely mean this s
Man go f y'all selves
Y'all ain't hear what I said?
I didn't
F*** Gucci
Intro
Yeah yeah, E. mims
Yeah
V1
Aye chief, that ain't it
I hope you don't think I'm bout to pay this chick
I hope you don't think
dont speak to me
Man shut ya mouth!
Cause if I find out you using me
All hell straight going south
What the f*** you mean ?
I'm tired of being blamed
And these shops gone bop, it don't stop
Won't stop, how it go down
Harm clock, Mo City, south west still shine, wooo
Still standing, and you know we
him to the mic he hit it
They gon' catch bi**h he on his way
Try to stop him and it's gonna be on today
Solitary confinement every day
F**k em all
south
My pistol in my pants but my dick is in your girls mouth
You just stepped in my world
Yeah this is f****** my world
Arms are rocked up, Bentley wit' the top up
Uh, you don't stop, come on
If you don't fuck with me
Like I don't fuck with you
It ain't much for us
I don’t know what they think we’re doing mane
All we’re doing is Worldwide Winning
Most!
The grind to the top don’t stop, we’re never giving up,
Yo, this Havoc the Mouthpiece from the S.C.C.
I only got three words to say:
South Central Madness
Hoo-ridin in the Central, yeah, the gangsters
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