Down Heya (In The South) 歌词
| 歌曲 | Down Heya (In The South) |
| 歌手 | YoungBloodZ |
| 专辑 | Against Da Grain |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Grigsby, Holmes, Hose, Joseph ... | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| If 5 on 2, shit its all good, we ride through the hood | |
| In the Delta 88' with that | |
| Georgia license plate | |
| These niggas, don't know | |
| They don't even wanna show no love to a nigga, like me, so | |
| I just stay | |
| On the grind, stay down for mine tryin' to get mine in daily | |
| Holla' at me like you know your foe, chiefin' on that green | |
| Never snort a lot of coke, stayed down with the home team | |
| Know what | |
| I mean, some shit, have a nigga, stressed out | |
| Make him small fast | |
| Bout' 175 will quit to open that cannon and woop your ass | |
| But ya' wait, get a bat face on the one-time while these hoes | |
| Choose on the | |
| Attic Crew, my girl already been chose | |
| These stankin' bitches get your boy caught up in that fuck shit | |
| I know they suckin dick, but they thanking the game | |
| I spitI put they ass in a rap and ride out on them hoes | |
| Get wit' my slick part now, then hit the studio | |
| Now see I jumps up, without a doubt | |
| Not a question being asked as you dash, with no way out | |
| Through the whirl-wind | |
| I spin, intruders, we break em' in | |
| Atlanta Georgia, we comin' for ya' with 50 men | |
| In sets of 10, no sippin' gin, we steppin' in its the | |
| Attic Crew | |
| No flaw within, we them | |
| Youngbloodz wit' plenty kin | |
| No ifs, no ands, no buts, no grins | |
| We after you, so what you do is count to three then click your shoes | |
| Then out the door, back to your hoe, down on the low | |
| Straight, toe to toe, 'cause | |
| J-Bo is who | |
| I be, won't fuck with you | |
| Don't fuck with me, so can't you see through the enemies | |
| Where be all you can fuckin' be, stay sucker free | |
| But first get some nuts before you fuck around and bite the dust | |
| Now nigga what, so what you got now if you ride out on them cruts, | |
| HookAnd thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| A day late and a dolla' short on the cat walk, windin' | |
| Tryin' to get meat, 22 tryin' to see 23, | |
| Shawty, three | |
| U double T's | |
| What it ain't gonna be, what it is over years | |
| I been scratchin' | |
| And scrapin' still ain't came up with nothin' | |
| Let everybody get they time to shine still waitin' on mine | |
| In the meantime tryin' to find a loophole | |
| God knows where the next one, for dead | |
| Got bust in the neck, nigga cryin', but the grind don't stop | |
| Like time don't stop, like a nigga who drop | |
| Casket, cover it up and ride out, ain't got nothin' to be smilin' bout' | |
| Only bit fake chasers, | |
| I'm tryin' to waste | |
| Gotta keep on stackin', gotta keep on packin', slackin' gonna get me | |
| Hemmed up, posted up in the store with the blow, don't show no flow | |
| As long as though, see hit the gas flow | |
| Gotta play it smart, gotta take it to the heart | |
| Fuckin' around, gonna get you fucked up, 4:30, the hill, law gone | |
| Always underestimated, great don't gives a fuck, don't make mistakes | |
| Shake em' off gonna get it crunk before this thang get too late | |
| Hold up, wait, my homeboys straight | |
| Don't make me go upside your head | |
| Drag your ass across the club, heard what | |
| I fuckin' said | |
| We ain't scared, prepared to take this thang to the streets | |
| Caprice and | |
| Fleetwood ride good | |
| Vouges with the beat | |
| You might not understand a damn thang that | |
| I speakI'm slizzard as hell, might stomp your punk ass to sleep | |
| And when this thang get crunk, | |
| I pack it up and take it to the lab | |
| Hit that gentlemens club and grab a couple of hoes off on the ass | |
| Laugh if you will, thank its funny but it ain't what the fuck you gonna do | |
| When they hit you, stick you for your bank | |
| From the freeze-tag to the | |
| Fleetwoods, from the two door to the four door | |
| Who got the leather, who got the cloth, who got the | |
| VouguesWith all the hoes, who got the gold, who got that grain | |
| Who got the green, who got the chains, who got the bitch | |
| I got the | |
| Fleetwood, girls most likely to complain | |
| See somethings can't be explained, how we really do this man | |
| Hit the lab, make it talk, now you here me once again | |
| Have you jumpin' and shakin', like you off in that blue flame | |
| Whats really going on holmes, can you please tell me man | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab |
| zuo qu : Grigsby, Holmes, Hose, Joseph ... | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| If 5 on 2, shit its all good, we ride through the hood | |
| In the Delta 88' with that | |
| Georgia license plate | |
| These niggas, don' t know | |
| They don' t even wanna show no love to a nigga, like me, so | |
| I just stay | |
| On the grind, stay down for mine tryin' to get mine in daily | |
| Holla' at me like you know your foe, chiefin' on that green | |
| Never snort a lot of coke, stayed down with the home team | |
| Know what | |
| I mean, some shit, have a nigga, stressed out | |
| Make him small fast | |
| Bout' 175 will quit to open that cannon and woop your ass | |
| But ya' wait, get a bat face on the onetime while these hoes | |
| Choose on the | |
| Attic Crew, my girl already been chose | |
| These stankin' bitches get your boy caught up in that fuck shit | |
| I know they suckin dick, but they thanking the game | |
| I spitI put they ass in a rap and ride out on them hoes | |
| Get wit' my slick part now, then hit the studio | |
| Now see I jumps up, without a doubt | |
| Not a question being asked as you dash, with no way out | |
| Through the whirlwind | |
| I spin, intruders, we break em' in | |
| Atlanta Georgia, we comin' for ya' with 50 men | |
| In sets of 10, no sippin' gin, we steppin' in its the | |
| Attic Crew | |
| No flaw within, we them | |
| Youngbloodz wit' plenty kin | |
| No ifs, no ands, no buts, no grins | |
| We after you, so what you do is count to three then click your shoes | |
| Then out the door, back to your hoe, down on the low | |
| Straight, toe to toe, ' cause | |
| JBo is who | |
| I be, won' t fuck with you | |
| Don' t fuck with me, so can' t you see through the enemies | |
| Where be all you can fuckin' be, stay sucker free | |
| But first get some nuts before you fuck around and bite the dust | |
| Now nigga what, so what you got now if you ride out on them cruts, | |
| HookAnd thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| A day late and a dolla' short on the cat walk, windin' | |
| Tryin' to get meat, 22 tryin' to see 23, | |
| Shawty, three | |
| U double T' s | |
| What it ain' t gonna be, what it is over years | |
| I been scratchin' | |
| And scrapin' still ain' t came up with nothin' | |
| Let everybody get they time to shine still waitin' on mine | |
| In the meantime tryin' to find a loophole | |
| God knows where the next one, for dead | |
| Got bust in the neck, nigga cryin', but the grind don' t stop | |
| Like time don' t stop, like a nigga who drop | |
| Casket, cover it up and ride out, ain' t got nothin' to be smilin' bout' | |
| Only bit fake chasers, | |
| I' m tryin' to waste | |
| Gotta keep on stackin', gotta keep on packin', slackin' gonna get me | |
| Hemmed up, posted up in the store with the blow, don' t show no flow | |
| As long as though, see hit the gas flow | |
| Gotta play it smart, gotta take it to the heart | |
| Fuckin' around, gonna get you fucked up, 4: 30, the hill, law gone | |
| Always underestimated, great don' t gives a fuck, don' t make mistakes | |
| Shake em' off gonna get it crunk before this thang get too late | |
| Hold up, wait, my homeboys straight | |
| Don' t make me go upside your head | |
| Drag your ass across the club, heard what | |
| I fuckin' said | |
| We ain' t scared, prepared to take this thang to the streets | |
| Caprice and | |
| Fleetwood ride good | |
| Vouges with the beat | |
| You might not understand a damn thang that | |
| I speakI' m slizzard as hell, might stomp your punk ass to sleep | |
| And when this thang get crunk, | |
| I pack it up and take it to the lab | |
| Hit that gentlemens club and grab a couple of hoes off on the ass | |
| Laugh if you will, thank its funny but it ain' t what the fuck you gonna do | |
| When they hit you, stick you for your bank | |
| From the freezetag to the | |
| Fleetwoods, from the two door to the four door | |
| Who got the leather, who got the cloth, who got the | |
| VouguesWith all the hoes, who got the gold, who got that grain | |
| Who got the green, who got the chains, who got the bitch | |
| I got the | |
| Fleetwood, girls most likely to complain | |
| See somethings can' t be explained, how we really do this man | |
| Hit the lab, make it talk, now you here me once again | |
| Have you jumpin' and shakin', like you off in that blue flame | |
| Whats really going on holmes, can you please tell me man | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab |
| zuò qǔ : Grigsby, Holmes, Hose, Joseph ... | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| If 5 on 2, shit its all good, we ride through the hood | |
| In the Delta 88' with that | |
| Georgia license plate | |
| These niggas, don' t know | |
| They don' t even wanna show no love to a nigga, like me, so | |
| I just stay | |
| On the grind, stay down for mine tryin' to get mine in daily | |
| Holla' at me like you know your foe, chiefin' on that green | |
| Never snort a lot of coke, stayed down with the home team | |
| Know what | |
| I mean, some shit, have a nigga, stressed out | |
| Make him small fast | |
| Bout' 175 will quit to open that cannon and woop your ass | |
| But ya' wait, get a bat face on the onetime while these hoes | |
| Choose on the | |
| Attic Crew, my girl already been chose | |
| These stankin' bitches get your boy caught up in that fuck shit | |
| I know they suckin dick, but they thanking the game | |
| I spitI put they ass in a rap and ride out on them hoes | |
| Get wit' my slick part now, then hit the studio | |
| Now see I jumps up, without a doubt | |
| Not a question being asked as you dash, with no way out | |
| Through the whirlwind | |
| I spin, intruders, we break em' in | |
| Atlanta Georgia, we comin' for ya' with 50 men | |
| In sets of 10, no sippin' gin, we steppin' in its the | |
| Attic Crew | |
| No flaw within, we them | |
| Youngbloodz wit' plenty kin | |
| No ifs, no ands, no buts, no grins | |
| We after you, so what you do is count to three then click your shoes | |
| Then out the door, back to your hoe, down on the low | |
| Straight, toe to toe, ' cause | |
| JBo is who | |
| I be, won' t fuck with you | |
| Don' t fuck with me, so can' t you see through the enemies | |
| Where be all you can fuckin' be, stay sucker free | |
| But first get some nuts before you fuck around and bite the dust | |
| Now nigga what, so what you got now if you ride out on them cruts, | |
| HookAnd thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| A day late and a dolla' short on the cat walk, windin' | |
| Tryin' to get meat, 22 tryin' to see 23, | |
| Shawty, three | |
| U double T' s | |
| What it ain' t gonna be, what it is over years | |
| I been scratchin' | |
| And scrapin' still ain' t came up with nothin' | |
| Let everybody get they time to shine still waitin' on mine | |
| In the meantime tryin' to find a loophole | |
| God knows where the next one, for dead | |
| Got bust in the neck, nigga cryin', but the grind don' t stop | |
| Like time don' t stop, like a nigga who drop | |
| Casket, cover it up and ride out, ain' t got nothin' to be smilin' bout' | |
| Only bit fake chasers, | |
| I' m tryin' to waste | |
| Gotta keep on stackin', gotta keep on packin', slackin' gonna get me | |
| Hemmed up, posted up in the store with the blow, don' t show no flow | |
| As long as though, see hit the gas flow | |
| Gotta play it smart, gotta take it to the heart | |
| Fuckin' around, gonna get you fucked up, 4: 30, the hill, law gone | |
| Always underestimated, great don' t gives a fuck, don' t make mistakes | |
| Shake em' off gonna get it crunk before this thang get too late | |
| Hold up, wait, my homeboys straight | |
| Don' t make me go upside your head | |
| Drag your ass across the club, heard what | |
| I fuckin' said | |
| We ain' t scared, prepared to take this thang to the streets | |
| Caprice and | |
| Fleetwood ride good | |
| Vouges with the beat | |
| You might not understand a damn thang that | |
| I speakI' m slizzard as hell, might stomp your punk ass to sleep | |
| And when this thang get crunk, | |
| I pack it up and take it to the lab | |
| Hit that gentlemens club and grab a couple of hoes off on the ass | |
| Laugh if you will, thank its funny but it ain' t what the fuck you gonna do | |
| When they hit you, stick you for your bank | |
| From the freezetag to the | |
| Fleetwoods, from the two door to the four door | |
| Who got the leather, who got the cloth, who got the | |
| VouguesWith all the hoes, who got the gold, who got that grain | |
| Who got the green, who got the chains, who got the bitch | |
| I got the | |
| Fleetwood, girls most likely to complain | |
| See somethings can' t be explained, how we really do this man | |
| Hit the lab, make it talk, now you here me once again | |
| Have you jumpin' and shakin', like you off in that blue flame | |
| Whats really going on holmes, can you please tell me man | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab | |
| And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets | |
| To the two door | |
| Capri, crunk out with the beat | |
| We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab | |
| Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab |
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