Luyện nghe bài hát South In Ya Mouth

Look this is the debut of these damn fools
Stak and Blac, tic for tac, all racial rules
And ain't too much, wrong with that 'cuz if it is, gone the truth
Please tell 'em wrong 'cuz if you do, then you know you through
Bitches grown ass man makin' grown man moves
Don't get it wrong, damn fools, Stak on ya too
We gone play with this shit, same label and shit
Like brothers, different mothers, but we in this shit

piano keys, two junkies, we'll be right back
(White-black)
And if you hit me, Stak gone feel it, and Blac won't like that
Shit we might just fight cats, beat you to the fact,
Provokin' you for the authorities
(Take that)
Me, I ain't facin' that blood on the bat
Hide all the evidence, please, 'fo come Stak
G'wan wit'cha bad self put South all in they mouth
Tell through the East of Tennessee before we work it out

Put the South in ya mouth, put the in ya mouth

Put the South in ya mouth, put the South in ya

Put the in ya mouth, put the South in ya mouth

South, yeah

TaylorMade, see they be too deep in the to be
Chiefin' trees, drinkin' crown, bad, talkin' loud
Push and through the crowd talkin' shit, so what's up now?
They don't want it, no, they don't it
I know alot of y'all wonder why Gangsta fuck with this white
They don't know by now, let me break it down for ya, tough dude
If you don't love me, mane you
Comin' like a train, boy, it's not a

What's my name name Big Stak Mac
Where I'm from from The terrible T
What I claim claim C.W.B.
So all that bullshit you don't mean nothin' to me
G.B. and me fall up in the new
trippin', say my crew is actin' too crazy
Some call me the coldest cracker and I may be
I'm like Jigga down here, call me big

Put the in ya mouth, put the South in ya mouth

Put the South in ya mouth, put the in ya mouth

Put the South in ya mouth, put the South in ya

South, Parkway

So if you wanna know, every God damned thang us country folks
green dreams, eat it up, 'cuz we got some more
Put some dirty South, real deep until you grease
Boy it, bustin' loose, tryin' to get to me
Barbecues, hoes, rims, paint, braids, fades, boy
Hay in the barn everyday in the boy
Counter that, runnin'? I'll be damned if run trick
Down fifty-one from the law, I'm free bitch

Corn on the cob, on the grill, potato salad
Straps in the park, at a cookout I'll let a hater it
Constantly on the scene, throughout my neighborhood
Kept it real my people like I always said I would
white boy caught up in the mix
Tryin' to the real from the counterfeit tricks
Counterfeit go platinum, on the real cats starve
But how the industry is, how the music people are

A celebrity I'll be
I'm just a representative of my
In Tennessee we don't fuck around, down
down this Southern town
From H-town to Funkytown, world
We the

Put the in ya mouth, put the South in ya mouth

Put the South in ya mouth, put the South in ya
Put the South in ya mouth, put the in ya mouth
Put the South in ya mouth, put the in ya mouth