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Nappy Roots

Watermelon, Chicken, & Gritz

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  dirty south  southern rap
224,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Nappy Roots - Watermelon, Chicken, & Gritz

Nappy Roots - Watermelon, Chicken, & Gritz слова песни

Yeah, haha Nappy RootsAwwnaw![Hook]Awnaw! Hell naw! ManY`all done up and done itAwnaw! Hell naw! BoyY`all done up and done itAwnaw! Hell naw! BoyY`all done up and done itAh, y`all done up and done itMan y`all done up and done it[Fish Scales]My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hookYou hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebookThe microphone was in the closet (What?) No headphones, we lost itNiggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucetsNo AC, Tez`ll break a sweat just tryin to make beatsE-Dubz was being a hustler, (Heeeyy man!)always flirtin with all his customers, and flat brokeNappy smokin blacks out on the back po`chI`m thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for[Big V]Now what we do to get here? (Say dat boy!!)Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (Say dat boy!!)Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work forHated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss moreHeld on, but it was hard - stepped up, took chargeRan through what we scared of, but what was we afraid for?Look at what we made of, hard times done made usBeing here is alright, but MUST believe we want more!Them country boys on the rise!With them big fat wheels on the side!Peep them vertical grills on the ride!And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!{Repeat Hook over this part}Them country boysWith them big fat wheelsPeep the vertical grillsAnd awwwwwwww![Saan/Skinny DeVille]My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-fileHell naw, them country boys ain`t headed south for six milesKentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokesSkullied on that front po`ch, plus you know they got `droSeventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grillInterstate 65 headin down to CashvilleGlass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat BenzSpent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lintsA damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythangJimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary JaneA long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soulTo Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy `fro[R Prophit]I might, hop off the Harley, smoke mine like Bob MarleyBlock parties with shawties, wallin like they swallowin BacardiThem butter-skin, Prophit gutter like kinUnderstand you `bout to lose ya life fuckin with THEEEMM!Them country boys on the rise!With them big fat wheels on the side!Peep the vertical grills on the ride!And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!{Repeat Hook over this part}Them country boysWith them big fat wheelsPeep the vertical grillsAnd awwwwwwww!Them country boysWith them big fat wheelsPeep the vertical grillsAnd awwwwwwww![Repeat]Them country boys on the rise!With them big fat wheels on the side!Peep the vertical grills on the ride!And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!Them country boysWith them big fat wheelsPeep the vertical grillsAnd awwwwwwww!

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