Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Like It Or Not, artist - Bubba Sparxxx.
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Like It Or Not |
Uhh, Sleepy Brown |
Uhh, Bubba Sparxxx |
We gon' keep doin it baby |
Whether you like it or not. |
uhh |
Ain’t a damn thang pretty |
From dirt roads to the city, uhh |
(You might catch me drunk in the pub) |
(Or either crunk in the club) |
WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT |
Don’t matter where I hang |
People love my twang, uhh |
(Call us country or Southerners mayn) |
(We gon' keep doin our thang) |
WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT |
Rollin up +So Fresh, So Clean+ |
Wood grain, big screen TV’s |
Uhh, I got the bump-bump in my trunk now |
Uhh, I’m 'bout to, I’m 'bout to funk |
Now all the ladies seem to like my style |
Guess I’ll be here for a while, mmm |
To see who wants to come and be with me |
I’ll take you back to the flat so I can show you where it’s at, c’mon |
Ohh, wee — look at me |
Movin 'cross the floor so easily |
Oh, my, can’t deny |
This funk starts high in the sky |
I’m 'bout to get my groove on |
Uhh, I’m 'bout to bust a move on 'em |
Uhh, there’s no-thing you can do for 'em |
Uhh, cause I’m checkin the spot if you really like it or not |
I know you hate it, I’ma say it to you anyway |
I’m 'bout to throw them 24's on that Escalade |
Still I got the Mickey T’s on the Chevrolet |
Z-7−1, the mere sight’ll take your breath away |
It’s today but I’m still on it like it’s yesterday |
Throw me the ball, this the game that I was bred to play |
And pass the cooler with this stewardess named Desireé |
You ain’t no concern, I’ma wait and see what Heaven say |
I got a brother by the name of Snicky Ricky Wade |
He said — Bubba, real careers ain’t quicky quickly made |
My other brother by the name of Patrick «Sleepy» Brown |
Said that our +Noize+ is the type that you should keep around |
They led me through the forest, took me to the wizard Ray |
He told me that tomorrow won’t be what it is today |
I said, «Damn, that’s just what my brother Tim would say» |
I’m back at home, just how long have I been away? |
I’m the type that you might see with Petey Pablo |
Chasin fielder’s dream with corn and three Diablos |
And I’ll be blessed to death if I see tomorrow |
But I’ma live to get my son a lead that he can follow |
I might can’t flip a brick but bet that I can move a pound |
And if you call yourself the king, well then there’s two in town |
Regardless where you from, what you do, or who you found |
You best to get to practice early for the shoot-around |
Cause Bubba don’t play, do them thangs you won’t say |
Be damned if I even pull my out and don’t spray |
Daddy told me just to do them thangs he never did |
Breakin broads, get money, live your life and treasure it |
And that’s the least that I can do, for the man who |
Raised me up and through his faults helped me understand you |
And now I’m certified, New South pioneer |
Born and raised down here, best believe I’m dyin here |
For all my rebels ridin dump truck, heavy Chevy’s, Cadillacs |
Hot rods, no seats, in the back |
Browning, thirties-thirties, in the rack |
Guaranteed, leave your land, where you at? |
Dump truck, heavy Chevy’s, Cadillacs |
Hot rods, no seats, in the back |
Browning, thirties-thirties, in the rack |
Guaranteed, leave your land, where you at? |
Sump truck, heavy Chevy’s, Cadillacs |
Hot rods, no seats, in the back |
Browning, thirties-thirties, in the rack |
Guaranteed, leave your land, where you at? |
Bubba Sparxxx! |
(YEAH) |
Organized Noize (YEAH) Beat Club |
Timbo (YEAH) the whole New South |
Real down South Georgia boy |
Real country white boy, real HARD |
Get it together, a new beginning. |