| (Palmdale was like the peak of my life
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| But Palmdale over with homeboy
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| I’m fittin to go home cuz)
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| Please take me back home (you know what I’m sayin)
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| To Mississippi
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| (I got my Greyhound ticket right here man
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| I’m fittin to go back and kick it with my family cuz)
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| Please take me back home (take a couple pounds of this weed)
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| To Mississippi
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| (You shmell me homeboy
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| Yeah, take them fools back to '82 cuz)
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| Before South Central, Palmdale flossin
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| I stayed in a place called Palmer’s Crossing
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| Hattiesburg, Mississippi
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| Smokin marijuana like a Woodstock hippy
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| All my homies in Laurel
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| Beg borrow
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| Buy my rap tape tomorrow
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| Tell DJ Pumpkin «Keep it crunckin Clyde»
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| Request my tape when you go inside
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| So I can take Jane and girl
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| To Waynesboro
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| Fuck their little homegirl
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| Make her toes curl
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| Rock their world
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| Leave with their Auntie Sheryl
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| She sucks me sucks me
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| Fucks me fucks me
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| Cries every time I leave Biloxi
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| But I hops in the Coup
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| Cause I gots to go
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| Scoop another ho
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| From Tupelo
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| Hit it once hit it twice, then I hit it again
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| Hit it in Meridian
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| Make that bitch rub her clit again
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| Pinch the nipples on her tit again
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| Suck my dick until she spit again
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| Please take me back home (Hell yeah)
|
| To Mississippi
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| Crooked letter crooked letter hump-back hump-back
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| Afroman’s the bomb, bump that
|
| Please take me back home (Hell yeah)
|
| To Mississippi
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| From the delta to the coast
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| I’m doin the most
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| Grab your 40 ounce, let’s toast
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| I sold rock cocaine down in Ellisville
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| Baseheads hit the pipe, they can tell it’s real
|
| Kept my dope stashed with this hoochie
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| Way down yonder in Eastabuchie
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| Cops be sweatin outta town dog
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| Sniffin my car with a hound dog
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| Separate me from my bitch and shit
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| Tryin to get my bitch to fuckin snitch and shit
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| Officer Roscoe P. Coltrane
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| Runnin warrant checks on the Afroman
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| But I can’t be no hip hop star
|
| Cuffed in the back of some police car
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| Did you find the gun? |
| NO!
|
| Did you find the dope? |
| NO!
|
| Open up the back door «Well son, you’re free to go»
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| A-F-R-O marijuana cargo
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| Flossed like a cholow
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| In a clean low glow
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| Come on let’s all get drunk tonight
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| I hope I don’t fight with a punk tonight
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| Get nervous
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| As I swerve this
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| Cadillac through Purvis
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| Hope I don’t crash when I hit Petal
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| Get my ass kicked in the white ghetto
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| Prejudice police won’t let me go
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| So I’mma drive slow
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| Hide my fro
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| I was dumb, now I’m dumber y’all
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| Last summer y’all
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| I fucked all the little girls down in Sumrall
|
| Grabbed my guitar and started pickin a tune
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| For Nikki and June
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| Down in Picayune, baby
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| Just like a shovel I be diggin
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| All the pretty young women in Wiggins
|
| On the boat
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| Gulfport
|
| I got my dick down some girl’s throat
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| I can’t help it I’m a Crip baby
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| I think you need to wipe your lip baby
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| Hula Hula Hula
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| The whole house ruler
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| What’s up with all the bitches down in Pascagoula
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| Small towns, small cities
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| But they still got big ole asses plus titties
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| Is it a bird? |
| Is it a plane?
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| It’s the hungry hustler Afroman
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| Flyin through the air in my underwear
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| Geri curl activator in my hair
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| I’m in control like Janet when I hit Jackson
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| Always gettin plenty panty action
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| McClaine, even McComb
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| Tell the whole world Mississippi’s your home
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| Yazoo, Columbia and Natchez
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| I got the weed brother, who got the matches?
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| Who got the funky DJ that scratches?
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| Depend on me like my name was patches
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| First it was a black thing, just the big Willies
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| Now I roll Phillies
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| With all the Hillbillies
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| Never ever thought I’d see the Klu Klux Klan
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| Buying front row seats for the Afroman
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| Confederate flags tobacco in their mouth
|
| It’s a beautiful thing jumpin off in the South
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| Afroman, I’m a part of it
|
| Hattiesburg hip hop I’m the start of it
|
| I’m the latest
|
| I’m the greatest
|
| And all you haters, I’ll mash you like potatoes
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| I’ll make your girlfriend holler and scream
|
| Then cook me some cornbread and collard greens
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| Erin, Broste, Carlos, and Tonto
|
| Tryin to break dance in my B-Boy stance
|
| Micheal Jackson glove, parachute pants
|
| Calvin Gary, Garnett Jones
|
| G-dog cuz, I don’t believe we grown
|
| But hey G-dog, you and me’ll see dog
|
| Whatever happens cuz, it’s you and me dog
|
| Or should I say loc
|
| Cause you my folk
|
| So let’s take a toke
|
| Till we croak
|
| I’m a locsta locsta
|
| Hundred spokesta
|
| Drinking everyday like I’m supposed to
|
| Bottle after bottle dog in my lip-a
|
| Flowing on the mic like the Mississippi river |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mississippi , by - Afroman. Song from the album The Good Times, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп