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It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue |
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(They ain't got a clue) |
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Why my Cutlass blue |
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And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too |
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It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip |
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(They ain't gotta trip) |
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While we swing and dip |
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'Cause we do big thangs on the muh'fuckin' hip, it's a Midwest thang |
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Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, what you think we live on a farm? Nigga be for real |
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We got Benz's Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville's |
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Got a green S Class, ain't broke the door seal |
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Shit ain't been the same since I signed fo' reel |
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This shit got ill, when I hit 4 mill |
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Five and countin', dirty six at will |
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Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide |
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I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9 |
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I hear 'em cryin', "You gon' sell out", ya damn right |
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I done sold out before and re-comped the same night |
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Straight hopped the next flight, too Icey for sunlight |
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Dunkin' without Sprite, yeah you heard me dirty |
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I'm from the Show-Me State, show me seven, I'll show you eight |
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Karats in one bling, heavily starched jeans |
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Representin' St. Louis every time I breathe |
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In the city, I touch down and I bob and weave, ay |
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It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue |
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(They ain't got a clue) |
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Why my Cutlass blue |
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And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too |
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It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip |
|
(They ain't gotta trip) |
|
While we swing and dip |
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'Cause we do big thangs on the muh'fuckin' hip, it's a Midwest thang |
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I sport my beeper on my boots that's why I be a buzz when I kick |
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Maybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spit |
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Quarter man, quarter schoolboy, half Lunatic |
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Quarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' shit |
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Keep a quarter of some shit, I'm the pooky of the backyard |
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All colors and all types like a junkyard |
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Hot young boy with hot young ways |
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'Cause I connect three blunts and be high for three days |
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You can tell by the way I walk, I ain't from 'round here |
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Probably couldn't tell 'cause I ain't walkin' nowhere |
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I got a old-school Cutlass, with a hole in the air |
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TV's everywhere wood grain to stare |
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I don't care, hell naw I ain't cuttin' my hair |
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To the half in them Air force 1's, give me two pair, ugh |
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I'm from the Lou' and what I do is a Lou' thang |
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One rapper, two rings and three chains |
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Nothing but some ole country boys that ride V-12 horses |
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Saddle up and put spurs on my Air force's |
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Back porches made for hide and go seek |
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We got space out here, we can ride and chief |
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Ain't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' us |
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By the time they catchin' up, we smoked it up |
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And my eyes be red, my lips a lil' dark |
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The Lou is more than the Rams, Cards and lil' Arch |
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My dirty's love to spark and love to sparkle |
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Love homies Vokal coats with matchin' car doors |
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We racin' down Skinker, see how fast our car go |
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Granny be like ay-yi-yi like Ricky Ricardo |
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I know you wanna know why we do what we do |
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You cats ain't got a clue, why the Cutlass blue |
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Brand new twenty-two's on new UP's |
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With one, two, three, four, five TV's |
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It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue |
|
(They ain't got a clue) |
|
Why my Cutlass blue |
|
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too |
|
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip |
|
(They ain't gotta trip) |
|
While we swing and dip |
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'Cause we do big thangs on the muh'fuckin' hip, it's a Midwest thang |
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I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin' a hood rhyme |
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Waitin' on my connect to deliver that good line |
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Wish I would find, one seed in my weed |
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Sticks and shit if I do somebody bleed |
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Pull right here, eight pounds of Chinamen |
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Two stay hittin' some blunts and Heineken |
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Hidin' in the back with the po' po' |
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Kicked in my do'do', man they some ho' ho's |
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They put the gun to my ear, you know the Lord don't fear |
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Nann nigga, nann hoe, let's keep that bullshit clear |
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They had me face down in the skreet |
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Everybody watchin', thinkin' I'ma pull the heat |
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And leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreet |
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And that pussy ass nigga that set me up my peeps |
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Gon' give it to this nigga like NYPD |
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Beat the K, fuck coke, now I'm back on my granny porch hustlin' |
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It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue |
|
(They ain't got a clue) |
|
Why my Cutlass blue |
|
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too |
|
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip |
|
(They ain't gotta trip) |
|
While we swing and dip |
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'Cause we do big thangs on the muh'fuckin' hip, it's a Midwest thang |
