[B Yooooo! I Yooooo! For all industry haters that said we couldn't do it... This for my country street yeagas! You know we
Smoke good, drink good, eat good, Nickel bag of funk'll make a country yeaga sleep Yo' hood, my hood, tote heat, should round here be up to no good
1] [Skinny My yeaga like one of them days I got a Franklin in my pocket, this lint like a slave And 20 cent to my name, make this crime pay Money spent, Ben gone, me with the Hamil-ton Window tint, ol' song Lincoln on a sack, the fifty-dat Bump my song, Get drunk, get it Country-fried, pack a Erything tight, 2 off in the trunk, bump In a slump, head-shot got me like a gauge Turn the page, the script Hit the script jump, shorty with the In the hatchback, ass fat Nickel bag of funk, caught a skunk in a rat Sat back, hit it once, hit it twice, pass Mashed-out, Fleetwood, Cadillac, headed Woodgrain, Pure Grain, it in and let it out Bouncin' like a bunny hunny, the shorty set it out Get in where we fit in, we gon' try our to sell it out
2x]
2] [B We makes it hot for 'em, the flames Who separate the from lames Yeaga be his name (Where you from?) The Ville, LaGrange, to Mills and Look how far Louisville's came! Now it down
I my pockets fat And my weed And my liquor And my hens With they panties And a beat that my yeagas bouncin, bouncin, bouncin, bouncin
Check, My mic vocals, is like Fetch the billfold that my is in And purchase a nickel to help me breathe I'm from a place where blood spills and Filled with drug deals and with gold grills and thangs Drink up, fill ya tanks, spill ya It's Nappy, dawg, Southern slang, We sendin' slugs ya brain (Fuck you know, good) And all my thugs, for the
2x]
2] [Fish A cool cat, a pimp hat Cup fulla Dreaded out, throwin up I'm headed out Slice it up and bet it out, the prices up and set it out Real niggaz doubt Swerve to the calico, me a deuce of that Make it 2 of that, pack a tip, flush a the change, got to go Flirt, tryna talk Georgia-bred, you can tell by my Hawk Hit me up if you get off Then I dap out, so Yo honey actin' mo' Napped-out, momma asking me "What's all 'bout?" Say I got big plans, slim but mapped-out Country boy with country Never spittin' lame Get to rap, still a dap like ain't nothin' changed My shit stay Nappy, split ends happy Bad threads must've came from his
[Hook end]