hook
it’s a midwest thang y’all and they ain’t got a clue
they ain’t got a clue why my cutlass blue
and i got them thangs on that muh’fucker too
it’s a midwest swang y’all and they ain’t gotta trip
they ain’t gotta trip while we swing and dip
cause we do big thangs on the muh’fuckin hip
it’s a midwest thang
nelly
ay ay ay ay ay
what you think we live on a farm nigga be for real
we got benz’s rovers’ and jag’s hummer’s and deville’s
got a green s class ain’t broke the door seal
shit ain’t been the same since i signed fo’ reel
this shit got ill when i hit 4 mill
five and countin’ dirty six at will
did seven on the slide 8 worldwide
i’ll be on my third bentley by the time i’m at 9
i hear ’em cryin you gon’ sell out ya damn right
i done sold out before and recomped the same night
straight hopped the next flight too icey for sunlight
dunkin without sprite yea you heard me dirty
i’m from the showme state show me seven i’ll show you eight
karats in one bling heavily starched jeans
representin st louis everytime i breathe
in the city i touch down and i bob and weave ay
hook
murphy lee
i sport my beeper on my boots that’s why i be a buzz when i kick
maybe it’s on my lips it’s chaos when i spit
quarter man quarter schoolboy half lunatic
quarter rubber quarter dick other half in yo’ chick
keep a quarter of some sheeeiit i’m the pooky of the backyard
all colors and all types like a junkyard
hot young boy with hot young ways
cause i connect three blunts and be high for three days
you can tell by the way i walk i ain’t from ’round hurr here
probably couldn’t tell cuz i ain’t walkin nowhurr nowhere
i got a oldschool cutlass with a hole in the urr air
tv’s urrwhurr everywhere wood grain to sturr stare
i don’t curr care hell naw i ain’t cuttin my hurr hair
ten and a half in them airforce ‘s gimme two purr pair ugh
i’m from the lou’ and what i do is a lou’ thang
one rapper two rings and three chains
kyjuan
nothing but some ole country boys that ride v horses
saddle up and put spurs on my airforce’s
back porches made for hide and go seek
we got space out hurr we can ride and chief
ain’t gotta worry ’bout nobody approachin’ us
by the time they catchin’ up we smoked it up
and my eyes be red my lips a lil’ dark
the lou is more than the rams cards and lil’ arch
my dirty’s love to spark and love to sparkle
love homies vokal coats with matchin’ car do’s doors
we racin down skinker see how fast our car go
granny be like ayyiyi like ricky ricardo
i know you wanna know why we do what we do
you cats ain’t got a clue why the cutlass blue
brand new twentytwo’s on new uv’s
with one two three four five tv’s
hook
big lee aka ali
i’m sittin’ on the front porch writin a hood rhyme
waitin on my connect to deliver that good line
wish i would find one seed in my weed
sticks and shit if i do somebody bleed
pull right here eight pounds of chinamen
two stay hittin some blunts and heineken
hidin in the back with the po’ po’
kicked in my do’do’ man they some ho’ hooo’s
they put the gun to my earr you know the lord don’t fear
nann nigga nann ho let’s keep that bullshit clearr
they had me face down in the skreet
errbody watchin thinkin i’mma pull the heat
and leave the dtects with a leak in the skreet
and that pussy ass nigga that set me up my peeps
gon’ give it to this nigga like nypd
beat the k fuck coke now i’m back on my granny porch hustlin
hook repeat to fade
Artist: St Lunatics
Year: 2001
Decade: 00s
Language: en
Word Count: 415