bout the south and close your mouth they should, yeah Hope your ghetto pass throughout the south stay good, yeah Ridin candy red, I'm on that south braised
, we wipe boys down In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown From the streets of Antoine, to the Homestead hoods From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good
money no more we just blow it (We spend it all up) We don't even count the money no more we just throw it And make 'em pick it all up [Trae Tha Truth
wipe boys down In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown From the streets of Antoine, to the Homestead hoods From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good I
hood niggaz spittin rhymes and riddles forever stayin on our grind because of the shine it give us and fuck jail, we didn't care how much time they give us [Chorus: Trae
m saying, we don't give a damn. And I just did that off the top of my head. (*Sings*)Leave a nigga dead... From that Lex, (From that Lex) when you finish
while keepin it under cover the keep the laws from guessin who did it and what had cause gangsta's don't make a scene bitch niggaz public sizin and end up with ten or fifteen [Verse 2 - Trae
I really miss my dog, I really miss my dog I really miss my dog, I really miss my dog [Z-Ro] You use to come, and scoop me In the sharp, from the trailer
, I'm trying to focus On bigger and brighter thangs Steady trying to come out the storm From hurricanes, to heaven and lighter rain Running away from
when you see me, why my face is quick to chalk a frown Cause I don't trust nobody, nope not a god damn soul So now you know I'm a hog, from high to a
m dead SK for life my nigga hold up ya head [Chorus] [Verse 2 - Boss] Every once in awhile I get a call from my friends one of my homies from the block
ya family to lose you I run with my Asshole By Nature niggaz Trae and Lil Boss look I just got the word from niggaz that Austin dropped in the south we
sho [Trae:] Sitting low behind tints, swanging to Southwest I got a tech to the chest, penetrating the plex And if a nigga don't know, we Down South
(feat. Lil' Wayne) Target practice baby. Only thing is I'm not the shooter, Im the bullet, BIAATCH!!! G'd up from the feet up. A-B-C D-E-F [Verse 1:
[Trae:] You must be out of ya mind, I'm from the south and this the realist check the resume, and that'll show the world why we the trillest in that black
to put your ass In a real nigga zone for a second, (I'm so gangsta) Asshole by Nature, repping it for these motherfucking streets (I'm so gangsta), from the South
it On trial for possessions, still concealing the biscuit Shouts to Trae, and my Dub's Southwest And my far Eastside, and all my Blood's out West But my shorties down South
(feat. Black Buddafly) [talking:] Trae the Truth, Lil' Boss, Black Buddafly yeah We fin to do this one here for the ghetto, get at me [Trae:] No matter