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Dirty South Lyrics By Goodie Mob

    one to da two da three da four
    dem dirty red dogs done hit the door
    and they got everybody on they hands and knees
    and they ain’t gonna leave until they find them keys

    cool breeze
    now if dirty bill clinton fronted me some weight
    told me to keep two bring him back eight
    and i only brought him five and stuck his ass for three
    do you think that clampett will sick his goons on me
    see martel homes that’s my claim to fame
    that’s where i learned my slickest tricks in the dopedgame
    like my favorite i call it lemonhead delight
    that’s when you lick off all the yellow and you sell the white

    big boi
    right well if pimpin’ be a sport i be bein’ the wide receiver
    that nigga big will make ya’ll niggas believers
    sippin’ on cuervo gold off in the club drunk as fuck
    callin’ them hoes bitches and smokin’ my weed up
    when i’m too sober year older now i’m almost legal
    wanted to live the life of cadillacs impalas and regals
    fuckin’ around wit hoes bustin’ nuts in they mouths
    kickin’ that same southern slang
    lookin’ for love off in yo’ jaw ho

    hook
    see powder gets you hyper reefer makes you calm
    cigarettes give you cancer woo woo’s make you dumb
    what you niggas know about the dirty south
    what you niggas know about the dirty south

    cool breeze
    see never did i think when i got grown
    that some pee wee sacks had been done took this town
    see life’s a bitch then you figure out
    why you really got dropped in the dirty south
    see in the rd grade this is what you told
    you was bought you was sold
    now they sayin’ juice left some heads cracked
    i betcha jed clampett want his money back
    see east point atlanta threw this road block
    talkin ’bout all this blow traffic got to stop
    so the big time players off john freeman way
    had to find themselves another back street to take
    ’cause back in the day we was outta control
    we didn’t understand naw nigga that money ain’t yours
    that’s when me and big slate took an oath and sweared
    never would we talk never would we tell
    so when they pulled up bumpin’ rock the bells
    we took what we want and left them quiet as hell

    what you niggas know about the dirty south
    what you niggas know about the dirty south

    4 big gipp
    now that cobras got the boys on delowe on they back
    gipp hollered at miss ann she said they didn’t get trapped
    behind the black behind green behind the red tint
    dealers breaking off that blow up for those woodchips
    a lot of faces ain’t around a lot of folks got shot
    scatta mack droppin’ g’s while that cristal pop
    been on the grind with cool breeze droppin’ pounds with b
    eric neal is the coolest from my century
    mack town keeps growing old school like charles
    stankin’ like dem lincolns in piedmont park
    perry homes to herndon homes to all the homes
    adamsville to poole creek shit just don’t sleep in the dirty south

    one to da two da three da four
    dem dirty red dogs done hit the door
    and they got everybody on they hands and knees
    and they ain’t gonna leave until they find them keys

    see powder gets you hyper reefa makes you calm
    cigarettes give you cancer woo woo’s make you dumb
    what you niggas know about the dirty south
    what you niggas know about the dirty south

    Artist: Goodie Mob

    Year: 1996

    Decade: 90s

    Language: en

    Word Count: 366