Lyrics:
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,
It's old love, I could see the eyes up above
watchin, waitin for me to slip
lose grip, opposition got me on their list
I get freshed by Jase
he threw
Y'all make them cars jump
Dirty South - when Kim say, "Can you hear me now?"
That's when y'all get it crunk!
My last album, some of y'all wasn't
were me, you'd be surrounded by security
Dope House, known for our purity
(Chorus)
[Verse 2]
Yeah, these west coast riders with the down south G's
17
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
a Brooklyn soldier, yes, I'm is
If you lookin' for a problem, here it is
I'm worser than the cross and bones, and that's danger
I don't give a fuck, what
love my voice
Of course, full-force, I done made it now
[Yo Gotti]
I feel like you can't stop me now
I'm tighter now
More of a writer now
Than a rapper
off
I stopped trustin' niggas since Gotti got caught
It's Bricks, keep your wrist covered, I'm piss colored
By the waist got a gun as dark as Kris
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
fine this just how it's going down
And the sound, watch your mouth in this motherfucking Dirty South
Nigga check it out, dirty swats got spots
said (alright)
And I live by the coast of Nostra Cit' (yeah)
Fuck around I'll knock your shoulder from your head (nigga)
Get it right I'm a soldier
off
I stopped trustin' niggas since Gotti got caught
It's Bricks, keep your wrist covered, I'm piss colored
By the waist got a gun as dark as Kris
homies be dyin down south
Run around, talkin shit, killas with gold in they mouth
But I'm a soldier, a rolla, give me ten
I'd rather die than go
the East, South and West
Street soldiers holdin' it down for they vets
[C-Murder]
I'm see-Murder, murder mass ten, I'm wit' the Dirty Bastard
And my
started!
Now all my niggas stay dirty dirty, buss rounds by the thirty thirty
Frontin' niggas y'all don't say a wordy wordy
I'm tired of y'all niggas
there ain't no foes keep on reppin
Tha dirty south and maybe we won't have to smack
Yo mouth
Its tha ROC , and tha h-town niggaz
And tha dirty south
Yo nephew, give me some of that No Limit shit
Yeah,
We got my nigga Fiend in the house
C-Murder in this motherfucker
Mystikal all up in this
by the way you shakin your perk-u-later
I'm the smooth operator
Hot mommy motivator
What I really wanna do
Put that thing on you
butter up yo hot
As we return, to the 36 Chambers
The RZA, the GZA
The Ol Dirty BZA
You-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah
And Meth, Rebel I soldier for
gon' hit yo' ass up. You know where we comin' from
Death Row BIOTCH hahaha Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
Stuck Shore South is home
Pelle who, soon to be caked out and blown
Boss of the bosses, Pricehead, Soldier apparel
Read the paper in my bed robe like
"Fuck yo, we gotta get this fuckin' loot, baby
We gotta get this loot
Yo back in the, yo remember back in the days
When shit, everything was all
the South get a pass in every section
And walk the projects with no protection
Be surrounded by a mob, and not get robbed
Considered to be a savior and not
the best
From the dirty south now
So you know the rest
On fire like a candle
Too hot to handle
I know she bad for me
I just want a sample
She grew up
.jpg/300px-Dirty_South_(DJ).jpg "Dirty South")
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