[Chorus - Male (background singer) My (Tell me do you it) My southern (Tell me do you it) I'm girl (Tell me do you it), OW! (Tell me do you it) jazzy (Tell me do you it) I'm so jazzy (Tell me do you it) Gettin (Tell me do you it) OW! (Tell me do you it), c'mon
1] Yeah, I'll be damned if I ain't the slick son gun seen Walkin a swallowed up the pharmacy at Walgreens Never did I love her, sorry baby it was all Who you you dealin with?, this Jimmy Mathis' offspring Forty I was deep on the I was there knock it out put on my boots and get the hell up out of You a rapper's rule, in and out before the snare And as far as parting shots, wash that shit up out your (OH) Stob block, Cobb block, Dodge Ram, got six twelves, four amps, sluts, what's hot I told ya hot shot, you done braggin too hot Reach inside that tool box, there is when the feud
2] Papa was a Rolling Stone, but I'm a boulder And I gotta flex the chain, or hit the mall to show ya I just hibernate a while and call ya when it's Don't know where I'm but it's pretty far from sober Yeah I up in life, but wouldn't start it over momma said that God said he got a party for ya And I'm a give ya lord, every beat a I owe ya It sounds a bit cliche but Bubba a soldier (OW) you know about balin hay in that South Georgia heat Very few roads are paved, I do it for the streets There's a heap a shit to lose, but there's more to keep If you froggy baby, better look before you leap
3] Baby it's the tone, got me gettin 'Georgia Dome' Like Shondon, with Steven on the phone Or maybe it's the slang, that got me down my brains on the plane, met this in Fort Mayne And you certaintly can blame the jazziest But it's classy broad that get trashy in the Bubba's just the slickest, how else is there to it just plead my case, and then let y'all unveil the verdict