Lyrics:
Young nigga workin' hard (workin')
Pull yo' card (pull it)
In that pot (in that), first one makin' noise (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt skrrt)
Boulevard (uh),
pocket
Pull up on the scene I was holding that nugget
No point of you holding the chain if you tuckin
Run in yo shit and I heard that you clutching
of hustlers
Twelve slappin, trunk rattlin, and when you yappin we in a gun battle
When you talkin the talk, we walkin the walk
So stay in yo' house when
can't change pimpin', from the Stone Age to the "Space Age" pimpin'
From Southern mackin' in Memphis to the playa mo' when you shoot to Chi
In
Screwed Up Texas, didn't know my direction
Now I'm a state representative, been chose by election
Some said I wouldn't make it, but I'm still in the game
spit it out and about, and spit outta the south,until they recognize the danger signs
So feel a tingle in yo' s-spine, by the way I talk
And it's pimpin'
gangsta shit
I say No Limit loud, cause we ain't scared of nobody
Organized by P or should I say, John Gotti
Real niggas, put ya guns up if ya feel me
But
the nigga in the suit in the box under the ground
Fox chased by the hound locked permanent frown xzibit get down
By liftin' iron by the pound for the tough
(come on, come on, come on)
Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from
In New York (ayy, ah-ha) (uh, yeah)
Concrete jungle (yeah) where dreams
come from, gettin' visual is habitual
De-mon-strate walkin' on hot coal, in rituals
I splash the paint on the wall, it formed the mural
He took
got nines in the bedroom
Glocks in the kitchen
A shotty by the shower if you
Wanna shoot me while I'm shittin
The lesson from the Smith
And Wessun is
Hilfiger made by Tommy
So when I speak, hope to reach my boricua mamis
Oh, come to papi, I love it when it's wet and sloppy
In and out the mouthpiece
buck in yo' head while you beg on your knees, uh
Plenty of bustas been put in the morgue
And they chillin' down in the cold freezers
Teflon
thang (haha)
I said I've been doin' my own thang
You can tell by my Benz, by
My BM, and my Hummer, damn
I'm doin' my thang
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, yo, yo
I
Rollin like a Mack truck, waxin those who talk junk
Violent your end, I got your face in my crosshairs
Wanna see your dome bust sucker cause I don't care
Refugees yo.. all you say
Dirty Dirty Dirty South
I used to play while at the YMCA, in L.A.
Sold my first A-K
I saw her man get murdered
strugglin', for the heat I lit the oven
One would by the CD, the other would do the dubbin'
Before I met Rob, I was in the clubs frontin'
Oh yeah I know
walkin' by makin' our drinks filled
What would you do, if you was a Don
In a position to wild out with a Brazilian blond?
Or maybe you a honey and it's
the stars, walkin these long roads
Just me and my guitar, I'm a six string hobo
It's been two years since I've been gone
And I haven't smiled in oh so long
I
a mothafuckas got it too
Livin on the coast where all these suckas comin for yo loot
Chainsaw Murda on that Memphis shit I'm always comin thru
Playas wanna talk
shit, you ain't gone break a man
[Chorus]
[Verse 3:]
Now we didn't have a pot to piss in
Shawty that's when you would listen
My down ass Memphis bitch,
the Triple 6 Mafia from Memphis
Who has a unique quality of rap style
What would you do if someone tried to duplicate your ideas?
Well, I shall take
Now one for adolescents, now dos for dose
Keep yo' friends by your side, even close your foes
Now three for Johnny Law tryin' to make my chips
I
style flop, your child play is amateur
Yo take that word, I rip your anus, youse a herb
I get in rectum, zoom focus on your whole room
Wear green
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