Lyrics:
Surrounded by plastic cups
They looked like unfinished drinks to me
A reaper look alike appeared from the abyss
Smoking a spliff
Yo you got the P
Yo you got
punk, sucka, busta, coward
(What kind of niggas you love to make your money with)
Thugs, Gs, ridas, soldier, ballers, playas, hustlers, money makers
[King Just]
Tiger uppercut, yo, what the fuck?
A lotta you rappers, adapt me, so you better duck down
Check out the sound that pound
Rugged raw rap
hittin gates, shit is dirty, plenty tight
leapin tall buildings in a single bounce feelin ceiling lights
hear me this if I go I better go in style
South suicide Queens, all niggas
Gather up all your arms
And get ready for this New World Order
Shit is about to change, motherfucker
I'm Miss
South suicide Queens, all niggas
Gather up all your arms
And get ready for this New World Order
Shit is about to change, motherfucker
I'm Miss
it crunk like the Dirty South
Hold ya mouth, you ain't worth a third of me
A word from me, exclusive as a surgery
But I don't use a scalpel,
[Hook x2]
[Chyna Whyte]
Bump, bump, bump, bump lettin' off shots
Double glock, glock, ch-ch, nigga pop pop
It don't stop in that Dirty South
Burn up
[Hook x2]
[Chyna Whyte]
Bump, bump, bump, bump lettin' off shots
Double glock, glock, ch-ch, nigga pop pop
It don't stop in that Dirty South
Burn up
Gotti, Neo Deastro, Franklin Gostra the Sixth, Sixth
May I laugh to yourself shells, before honor and war I just can't tell
I can't fake these
move smart, and never sell your soul
Just to be on top of the charts
I started at the top had to go down south
Was getting real dirty dirty so I had
featuring Deadly Venoms
[Kurupt]
DV....
DV..
Yo we trying to make the cash ya'll without a doubt
Representing both coasts
camouflage cargo
The street ain't promised to us niggas in that dirty south
That's why I'm ridin' with that nine I'm tryin' make it out
It's hard to live in
camouflage cargo
The street ain't promised to us niggas in that dirty south
That's why I'm ridin' with that nine I'm tryin' make it out
It's hard to live in
carpet on y'all bitch asses.
Hailin from the filthy, dirty South, where the Kings lay.
Ludacris; Disturbin' Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty
when you
know who it is on
The fucking microphone Again
It's the Chief motherfucking Priest
Yeah
Sad Avenue Nigga
Yo, yo
I'm from a place where
Good souls get
Representing Texas, the dirty dirty south
Home of the killers will put this 50in yo mouth
Nah I'm just playing, but I ain't playing
You know what I'm saying,
leap
Ain't ducking beef I'm strapped up with that heat
I'm solid even through the pressure
I can't never go out sweet and I heard about yo dawg
His
From the Swordsman's Hill
To the Soldier's Ville
To where they do or die
Nigga killed or be killed
Comes a different breed of man
Wit heat to blam
Buck 89 on the boards, what up buck
Word to god, Hussein, what up nigga
Haha, life is good, a yo
It's a reality that, all the real niggas
Have
the ladies that got dick on they mind
From the windy city down to the dirty south
Like Luda you know I beat that shit by the (word of mouf)
I sold 350
And I be lovin' all the ladies that got dick on they mind
From the windy city down to the dirty south
Like Luda you know I beat that shit by the (word
where you goin' go who you goin' call now
Military minded, I's a motherfucking soldier
And I don't need nothing, but murder music and doja
Creeping,
Dirt, dirty south, I heard they run up in your house
Shakespeare, no time to jive blast your girl through the blouse
What? MCs, y'all aint nothing but
.jpg/300px-Dirty_South_(DJ).jpg "Dirty South")
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