lirik lagu educated hustlers - southern comfort
j.write (eh)
home of the pimpin’ chrome liftin’ them antiques
leather seats wood grippin’ and trunks beat
palm trees and ocean water when at the beach
some of the baddest b-tches keepin’ me company
my liquor chilled swisher filled with that green lantern
now i’m lyin’ (lion) back, barry sanders
then i encounter the elevation that i created
feeling southern-listic therefore i’m segregated
from all the hatred
just keep on paper-chasing throw it at her when she naked
that’s southern related
we coordinating occupations for money makin’ we hustle hard
since we were young-bloods shot out to sean paul
where n-ggas ball and choppas take up ya trunk sp-ce
don’t jack ya jaws or choppas be dumpin’ in ya face
stay in ya place and appreciate the dirty south
because we ludicrous (ludacris)… “word of mouth”
chief (bloodtype)
back for the first time, n-gga i earn mine
even though i been up on this grind since the first rhyme
i dont know much, but i know about miami
where knowledge can come in handy, when n-ggas ain’t understanding
these streets can be demanding, cuz n-ggas out here be scamming and camping
to hit up, where yo’ stacks landing
d-mn champ what happened, real n-ggas don’t ask madden
all that grandstanding, it deserves to be reprimanded
instead cash planning and being the last standing
you on the beach tanning and laughing, and -ss grabbing
and see, that’s how it be with these n-ggas in the 3
they be thinkin’ that its sweet till the reach and they meet the heat
pressed up against they cheek, and they see and they think its beef
but these n-ggas want the cheese so they creep to see where you sleep
and homie my name chief, i’m just keepin’ it one hunnid
jus focus on getting’ money aka that southern comfort
stepson (bloodtype)
p-ss my cd around the underground
hecklers hatin’ up in the crowd debating on what the sound is
they say its cuz of my unusual flow
but i know they love makin’ these molehills into mountains
i understand its out of my hands i let it go
if you don’t know see what’s happening on the low is
i’m intelligent and i ain’t tryna cover it up
and all a sudden now a brotha isn’t southern enough
i’m toughening up cuz n-ggas will try to k!ll you with hate
if you praying for us to let up, apologies for the wait
and the weight carried on my back has been kinda heavy
cuz the listeners will try to box me in like a chevy. nope!
and can i teach you how to stunt? yes..indeed
because i spit it like a cutl-ss…supreme
i like to keep my wheels turning and my girls curvy
s t e p and the chief we put it down for the dirty
timbo (eh)
“south of the mason dixon
the land that gave birth to pimping
you can catch me wood grain grippin’
sippin’ brown and riding slow
trunk bangin’ slab sw-ngin’ beating down ya block
the music up high but jamaica got my eyes low
oh these b-tches ain’t all that
oh i hit ‘em once and never call back
oh the south is where my heart at
oh but you already know that
i spent my days beside the bay and summer nights in alabama
no, its nowhere near the lou but dialects of country grammar
never knew about a santa
but i knew about them bills
and i ain’t talking buffalo when we was winging it for real
another nappy headed n-gga in the streets like a median
chasing p-ss, blowing kush, higher than a ceiling fan
yea we brave hearts…mel gip
down here in the dirty dont be scared gon take a trip”
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