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Bun B Feat. Rick Ross, David Banner, 8 Ball & MJG - Текст песни You're Everything
Man, fo' real I love beinâ from the Dirty South, mayne
It made me the G I am today, made me the hustler I am today
The grinder, the baller, the gangster I am today, mayne
Lot of people got opinions and issues and problems with
What they see cominâ from the South
And who doinâ what in the South, mayne
But I'ma tell you like this, fuck you dawg, this the South nigga
We gon' be here, we been here and ain't goinâ no motherfuckinâ where
Take it how you like it, hate it or love it, hoe
It's that candy paint, 84's, belts and buckles, chrome and grill
Leather seats, stitch and tuck, TV screens and wooden wheels
Suede roof, neon lights, whole tire swang and bang
Tops drop, blades chop, fifth wheel just hanginâ, mayne
White T's, fitted hats, Jordans on the dickies
That swisher sweet, cigarillos filled up with the sticky
The fifteens bamin' and the bass kick-kickinâ
Cadillac do's slamminâ on them po'-po's, tippinâ
We ain't trippinâ just flippinâ, these haters dip when they see us
âCause they could never beat us best us or be us
I'm a G that's a genius, best to just respect my thugginâ, mayne
It's the South, ain't nothinâ above it and that's why I love it, mayne, fo' real
You're everything I knew, oh, yeah
Do what you want me to, I will do anything
Get on my knees for you, oh baby, what else is there to do
I don't know, I don't know but I'll cry
Pray at night when you sellinâ white, got one ki' tryinâ to sell it twice
Yellow stones all in my shit, yellow bones all on my dick
Honeycomb, I call my crib, money long that's on my kids
I rock P to my Uncle Chad, UGK you can't fuck with that
Niggas fake, they hate candy paint
And all the paper that your partner make
Shakinâ dice like a face of life, champagne just ain't tastinâ right
Haterade they Gatorade, look at these seats they âgator made
Friend or foe, niggas never know, never know when you fin' to blow
Dude scrapinâ the curb, dippinâ sippinâ some syrupBun B Feat. Rick Ross, David Banner, 8 Ball & MJG - You're Everything - http://ru.motolyrics.com/bun-b-feat-rick-ross-david-banner-8-ball-and-mjg/youre-everything-lyrics.html
Fingers blistered twisted swishers, Pimp died and it hurt
But I handle my issue, I got several pistols
That won't whistle, missiles knockinâ gristle from fatty tissue
Mississippi's my home, 'til I'm die and I'm gone
I know I put it on my back, held that bitch up alone
With no label backinâ, pride split into fractions
I hit the ocean on piggy bustinâ back at the crackinâ, y'all afraid
You're everything I knew, oh yeah
Do what you want me to, I will do anything
Get on my knees for you, oh baby, what else is there to do
I don't know, I don't know but I'll cry
Lets talk about Pimp C, Bun B, 8ball, MJG
Big Boi, Dre 3000, Scarface, Willie D
T.I.P, Young Jeezy, Birdman, Lilâ Weezy
Trick Daddy, Young Buck, So So Def, Jermaine Dupri
J Prince, Rap-A-Lot, Juicy J, DJ Paul
Slim Thug, Lil' Keke, Chamillionare, Paul Wall
We all different but we all rep the same thang
God first, family then money in the South, mayne
They call me Pimp Tyte, MJG
The Dirty South is everything I want
Everything I need, everything I'm longinâ for
When I'm outta town, gotta get home, just for
Everything that I been raised to love
The wisdom my grand momma gave to us
Racial profilinâ, police harassment, regular days to us
You say door, we say do', you say four, we say fo'
You say whore, we say hoe, you want more but we want mo'
What else is there left for me to do? This the dedication from me to you
The South, I know you gonna see me through
So until I die I wanna be wit'chu, you're everything
You're everything I knew, oh, yeah
Do what you want me to, I will do anything
Get on my knees for you, oh baby, what else is there to do
I don't know, I don't know but I'll cry