| Young Buck, Lil' Flip, David Banner c’mon
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| G-Unit in this bitch, G-Unit in this bitch
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| The dirty dirty
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| Show 'em how the South do
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| Gold grills, Coupe DeVilles sittin' on 22's
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| The dirty, dirty baby, show 'em how the South do
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| We pop pills, shoot to kill, you know what we bout
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| And on behalf of G-Unit, welcome to the South
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| Working this wood wheel, y’all don’t know how good it feel
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| Just come to cashville, y’all gon see how hood it is
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| We in the projects, cookin' chickens in the kitchen
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| We go to prison, but get out and go back to get in it
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| Your hood ain’t no harder than mine, bitch, we all thuggin'
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| We fight in clubs, hit the parkin' lot, and start bustin'
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| I know I’m country, I can’t help it I’m from Tennessee
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| I’m throwin' up this hennisey, and blowin up my enemies
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| Y’all niggas remember me? |
| (remember me?)
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| Not because the birds ten a ki'
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| But Young Buck been a g', I give a fuck who you be boy
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| I want in on everything, a dime bag, if so come see me for it
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| To be a star, all you need is a Pyrex Jar
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| Some soldiers, and some baking soda, you can buy that car
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| Gold grills, Coupe DeVilles sittin' on 22's
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| The dirty, dirty baby, show 'em how the South do
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| We pop pills, shoot to kill, you know what we bout
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| And on behalf of G-Unit, welcome to the South
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| I swear on the souls of our dead cousins
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| I ain’t fuckin', man I’m comin' AK 40's bustin'
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| 7's and Mack 11's
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| I told 'em all I ain’t no ho
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| But niggas don’t listen till you kick a nigga
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| Smack him with that callico
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| I’m tryin' to stay in gods plan
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| But I had ta show these faggots that your fuckin' with a man, ya bitch!
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| I left them niggas needin' path
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| And y’all prob’ly won’t live to see this weekend
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| Gotta go, gotta go, fuckin' mash out
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| I hit the dro' a Lil more and then I pass out
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| Crashin' the H2, bitches I hate you
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| Now you keep talkin' shit, I kidnap and duct tape you
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| Let them faggots rape you
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| Then it’s back to Mississippi, if ya boys want revenge
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| Tell them bitches come and get me
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| Cuz I was born in this bitch to die
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| I’m in Queens, in your 'Lac, with your bitch, gettin' high
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| Gold grills, Coupe DeVilles sittin' on 22's
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| The dirty, dirty baby, show 'em how the South do
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| We pop pills, shoot to kill, you know what we bout
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| And on behalf of G-Unit, welcome to the South
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| I’m the king, it ain’t no mystery, so fuck y’all niggas dissin' me
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| I’m goin' down in history, I’m leavin' with a victory
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| Yo' baby momma kissin' me, talkin' 'bout she missin' me
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| Since I’m a star, when I hit the door, they never friskin' me
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| Cuz I pack a pound, just ask around, like 50 «I'll back you down»
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| Run to Ya' crib and snach Ya' pounds, everybody on the ground
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| You know my niggas hold me down, what goes around comes around
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| I represent H-Town, still run the underground
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| With bricks on the greyhound, spree’s on my escalade
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| I’m glad I made it out the game, it gotta be a better way
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| Now we gettin' cheeda', now we on another level
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| It’s clover G and G-Unit, Young Buck, shut 'em down
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| Gold grills, Coupe DeVilles sittin' on 22's
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| The dirty, dirty baby, show 'em how the South do
|
| We pop pills, shoot to kill, you know what we bout
|
| And on behalf of G-Unit, welcome to the South
|
| Gold grills, Coupe DeVilles sittin' on 22's
|
| The dirty, dirty baby, show 'em how the South do
|
| We pop pills, shoot to kill, you know what we bout
|
| And on behalf of G-Unit, welcome to the South |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Welcome To The South , by - Young Buck. Song from the album Straight Outta Cashville, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп