Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Big Sant] I rap nigga And I ain't talking about gift giving I'm talking about living the gift of spitting Riddle my competition with ammunition no pistol could emit Still enough to leave 'em missing I'm suggesting that you listen, closely, most folks is phoney Greet you like the homie and later act like you don't know me Throw your name in the middle like Monie over money Think it's funny 'til you find yourself crashing over dummies They asking for me to spit, I tell them niggas to rap Night of the Living Dead I'm existing off naps I don't bicker with bitches or bitch ass niggas in fact Wanna hang in Mississippi I can give you some slack Kicking chest from under other rap niggas you wack I'll lay my game flat you can have your spot back Caught that ass slipping now I'm swimming in your misses Like I'm white water rafting, coming up for air gasping She suck it like a vaccuum, I ain't even ask for it I keep her at the bottom like my Mac dashboard Wanna keep your baby momma better Honda Passport it To the closest ATM, this is real life extortion With real life results for trill minds of course Dead conversation, and pile up the corpse But I'm miles away from Davis Street That's where I cooked up the first batch of bad luck for any that challenge me Gap tooth, fat nigga, rap like an athlete Hogging up lanes cause there ain't no passing me For real, say the wrong thing and get slapped Who said niggas from the south can't rap? Bitch [Verse 2: King Mez] Giving them words about the south we make them pay attention Went from hearing about them now and then to everyday they mention Yeah And how these record labels trade positions Moving they offices so they closer to the Mason Dixon How that happen? All the credit from rapping Supposed to go to the nigga with the northern accent and the Yankees jacket But nigga see now, try to front and you senile Better believe we got the key now, for real I'm on stage and a nigga light up, on instrumentals black out Opening any shows can make your headliner back out On celebrating achievements later talking with Rap 'bout I'll only floss a little, I won't be pulling no plaque out Cause lil' niggas in my city often hold the mac out Teach them 'bout onomatopoeia they can tell you blackat! Blackat! Blackat! Blackat! Now that that's out Is money worthless with no purpose, just service so backout Aye y'all be talking 'bout somebody changing I put money up, I leave the game from the door I came in Too many rap niggas lame so I speak in layman's I speak my hieroglyphics, no one to decipher my paintings So what's the point of me aiming? Yeah You rappers praying, say "Amen" And thank God for existing In that ignorant lane that I be letting you stay in For real [Verse 3: Tito Lopez] My real rap niggas know what this is Down south nigga Still influenced by the Nas, Biggies and Kiss's Vicious on the mic, that's an understatement Cause I do on accident when you niggas would call flagrant That mean I hit the hardest bitch and I ain't even trying Ain't even lying, niggas hate me, they even crying Like how the hell he get a record deal? He ain't had no buzz Don't worry 'bout it ho that's what Lo' does Been 10 years since you heard a motherfucker this nasty Bitches be catching orgasms just from walking past me They tricks, just like every ho up in the hood Taking dicks, and I ain't talking no sporting goods I'd be rich, if I did what all these niggas is doing But history I'm pursing so miss me with all that lame shit Danger from the start, got anger in my heart Switchblade make ya bitch-made nigga play your part It's southside 'til I die, that's a part of me Car bomb flow, I know they wish they never started me Gassed up in that Nav truck needing fast bucks Got a lot but need a little mo' like an old Fab cut Have but one job, represent the mob G-P-T, flex and get your ass robbed Now tell the truth, you ain't seen a nigga aspire A bad liar, swell up your jaw, Quagmire I pass by ya, three tires and a donut My backside dipping like so what Never let me slip cause if I slip then I'm slipping But when I get on this mic you niggas know I'm straight tripping Ripping And I'm not just a rapper, I'm really just starting I wear many hats like Cole on Martin If you see me, know I got them underdogs with me And I'm steady screaming Mississippi Tito Lopez [Verse 4: Phonte] I'm giving niggas a crash course On how to take it back to the asphalt We the task force, ready to blast off And eat a niggas face like Pac Man on bath salt Another plane another stamp in the passport Another marble mouth nigga with a glass jaw I say listen up, Hip Hop been in the south Nigga loosen up the straps on your Jansport And let 'em know what I stand for Raw Carolina niggas spit butane Tigallo sing a hook like Lou Rawls Turn around and kick fly shit like Liu Kang If they ain't got a budget I ain't budging Get your paper cousin, maybe we can do thangs I spit game for them niggas that's a slave to the rhythm And slave to they bills dawg, two chains Riding 'round and I'm getting it Carolina bound and I'm living it So now you might wanna gather round your constituents Play along, say the wrong thang get slapped Who said niggas from the south can't rap Nigga
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