| Pushin' rhymes underground like moonshine
|
| With jump like juke joints
|
| Ridin' like old 'lacs
|
| Down like 4 flats
|
| Shine like gold grills
|
| Curls and chrome rims
|
| Bitch you know what it is
|
| I’m Live from the underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground, underground
|
| Underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground railroad
|
| My papa told me get paper, motherfuck a hater
|
| Them J’s look clean son but elevate to gators
|
| I took that shit to heart plus I dug it like a crater
|
| I’m givin' out game player are there any takers
|
| While you was quarter sackin' I was quarterbackin
|
| Callin' plays everyday, level All-Madden
|
| Hi five, cloud nine, private jet lackin'
|
| Treat the seal like a vinyl record, gotta keep it crackin'
|
| Shall I pour up, blow some smoke up, get my spit on
|
| Grab a paper, sit on a track and get my shit on
|
| Ice cold water with the flow minus the lemon
|
| I’m Cinematic Multi, what label you been on
|
| Old school ridin' flickin' ashes in the tray
|
| Smokin' up the booth blowin' static in they face
|
| C.R.E.A.M., cash rules everything around me
|
| King, checker board nigga go and crown me
|
| Pushin' rhymes underground like moonshine
|
| With jump like juke joints
|
| Ridin' like old 'lacs
|
| Down like 4 flats
|
| Shine like gold grills
|
| Curls and chrome rims
|
| Bitch you know what it is
|
| I’m Live from the underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground, underground
|
| Underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground railroad
|
| Keep it rolled, I’m supposed to lose control
|
| Oh no, pop the trunk, burn a skunk and slam a do', do'
|
| Window crack on the ave, marinate the scene
|
| When I lean and crawl couldn’t see me with your high beams
|
| Play my part, I got heart, I’m tailor gator sharp
|
| Plus we sit taller than Monster trucks in them trailer park
|
| My candy coated it cost a grip but I had to blow it
|
| Your sides was dusty, my seats is bucket but you’ll never know it
|
| Forever tinted so you can’t peep while your bitch up in it
|
| You call her phone she give you tone like «Why you trippin'»
|
| Cold blooded ain’t it but that’s how it be when they want that cash
|
| When you ain’t around anybody can be in that ass
|
| Heard that from 8-Ball homeboy girlfriend
|
| If she a bopper then she probably ain’t your girl then
|
| You claim you pimpin' don’t be trickin' wear a curl then
|
| And find some paint to put some swirls in
|
| Pushin' rhymes underground like moonshine
|
| With jump like juke joints
|
| Ridin' like old 'lacs
|
| Down like 4 flats
|
| Shine like gold grills
|
| Curls and chrome rims
|
| Bitch you know what it is
|
| I’m Live from the underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground, underground
|
| Underground, underground
|
| Live from the underground railroad
|
| We goin' live
|
| From the underground
|
| From the underground
|
| From the underground
|
| S: Hey, are you okay down there?
|
| K: Yea, I’m fine. |
| Where am I?
|
| S: You’re in the mainstream. |
| This is A&R-ville. |
| Where are you from?
|
| K: I’m from Cadillactica, by way of the underground. |
| For short, the south |