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One to da two da three da four |
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Dem dirty red dogs done hit the door |
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And they got everybody on they hands and knees |
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And they ain't gonna leave until' they find them keys |
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Now if dirty Bill Clinton fronted me some weight |
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Told me to keep two, bring him back eight |
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And I only brought him five and stuck his ass for three |
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Do you think that Clampett will sick his goons on me? |
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See martail homes, that's my claim to fame |
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That's where I learned my slickest trick in the dope-d-game |
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Like my favorite, I call it lemon head delight |
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When you lick off all the yellow and you sell the white |
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Right, well if pimpin' be a sport I be bein' the wide receiver |
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That nigga B.I.G. will make ya'll niggas believers |
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Sippin' on cuervo gold off in the club drunk as fuck |
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Callin' them hoes bitches and smokin' my weed up |
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When I'm too sober, year older, now I'm almost legal |
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Wanted to live the life of Cadillacs, Impalas and Regals |
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Fuckin' around wit hoes, bustin' nuts in they mouths |
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Kickin' that same southern slang, lookin' for love off in yo' jaw hoe |
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See powder gets you hyper, reefa makes you calm |
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Cigarettes give you cancer, woo woo's make you numb |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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See never did I thank when I got grown |
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That some pee wee sacks had been done took dis town |
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See life's a bitch then you figure out |
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Why you really got dropped in the dirty south? |
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See in the 3rd grade this is what you told |
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You was bought, you was sold |
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Now they sayin' juice left some heads cracked |
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I betcha Jedd Clampett want his money back |
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See east point Atlanta threw this road block |
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Talkin 'bout all this blow traffic got to stop |
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So the big time players off John Freeman way |
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Had to find themselves another back street to take |
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'Cause back in the day we was outta control |
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We didn't understand, "Naw nigga, that money ain't yours" |
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That's when me and big state took an oath and sweared |
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Never would we talk, never would we tell |
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So when they pulled up bumpin', "Rock the bells" |
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We took what we want and left them quiet as hell |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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Now that cobras got tha boys on delowe on they back |
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Gipp Holler at Miss Ann she said, "They didn't get the trap" |
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Behind tha black, behind green, behind tha red tint |
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Dealers breakin' off that blow up for those wood chips |
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A lot of faces ain't around, a lot of folks got shot |
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Scatta Mack droppin' G's while that Cristal pop |
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Been on tha grind with cool breeze, droppin' pounds with B |
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Eric Neat is tha coolest from my century |
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Mack town keeps growin', old school like Charles |
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Stankin' like dem Lincolns in Piedmont park |
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Perry homes to Herndon homes, to all tha homes |
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Adams ville to pool creek, shit just don't sleep in tha dirty south |
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One to da two da three da four |
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Dem dirty red dogs done hit the door |
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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 |
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Cigarettes give you cancer, woo woo's make you numb |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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What you niggas know about the dirty south? |
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Hey hey |
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The dirty south |
