throw your hands up
8ball & mjg
i ain't got nothing but time
so i'mma get out on these cuts
keep my mind on cloud twenty-nine
my player ways keep me with plenty dimes
see i'mma shine like all six of my gold teeth
when a nigga get through cooking up
all night on the block til the sun rise
my only friend is a glock with the 4-5
four five in the mornin it don't stop
day dreamin bout flousin tha drop top
blue lights snap me back to reality
i hit the alley quick and toss what i got on me
tricks ain't got shit to do but harass
search tha nigga and took about a three in cash
i guess that's better than gettin locked up
or gettin jammed with that shit i had rocked up
now i heard that the south is where yo folks from
down in the bottoms where they broke some
and now they wonder why we act
gold teeth and heavy chevys
afros & loud ass italian clothes
people bar-be-quein in the front yard
money from the first of the month card!
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up!
i got a maid cooking grits
so tight my niggas wanna stay the whole nite
nigga drunk singin sounding like tha bee gees
ham sam'ich in the driveway
naked women in tha den playing
so hit me and i'mma keep my
got some scratches on my rims
if i diss her it'll take a nigga ten lines
you can have all the bitches
on to any woman like a human hand cuff
you got ya hair down baby fuck it
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up!
how many flows can i compose
i drop this slang like lyrical bows
stickin out just like an outkast
over thornt from stimmergroves
been had a coke and a smile
now i'm trippin off yak & sprite
y'all just might seem to skunk eyed
with a girl who chunked thighed
below the mason-dixon line
real niggas know what i'm talkin about
the deeper the darker tha dirty south is what i'm after
the content of the rhyme may be contagious
the space age is pimpin this
they shot the psycho that sprayed
cut ya wife and played her
of music right here to please you
but if ain't that dirty then patna see we don't need you
mjg on y'all punk motherfuckers!
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up!
it's like the more that i talk to you tha dumber that i get
the closer that i walk to you
the further that we stand
nobody has the upper hand but my bodies resistance
throw your filangies in tha ground
un-believers stay from hell around
i found negatives niggas they only keep ya down
transmitting from native american burial grounds
the weight of all worlds on my shoulderpads
um post ta blast space invaders up somebodys dad
if knowledge be the key then
buddy roasted on the porch
and wait for ya momma to get off work
either to finda open window fast
word to the motherfucker!
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up
if anybody out their hear me get ya hands up
if anybody out their feel me get ya hands up!