Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Southern Dialect, artist - Big Mike
Date of issue: 07.04.1997
Song language: English
Southern Dialect |
Down south |
We got women on the beach |
Swerve on streets |
Players ridin drop |
And the flips won’t stop |
Now tell me what y’all know about a player like me comin through steppin |
I’m wreckin, New Orlean’an, and in 1984 turned Texan |
Lyrically flexin I made a name for myself |
Gained love, not in clubs, on streets, and I dealt |
With these playa-hatas out here among us in the game |
I had to pass em by cause it really wasn’t my thing |
Now don’t you wanna scream it like you mean it |
To them fools who said I couldn’t do it |
The ones that said that if I left the group, then I’d be ruined |
Keep on doin what you’re doin |
That’s what my conscience said, use your head, and you’ll win |
Cause them haters who I thought was my partners, wasn’t really my niggas |
They reneged, they couldn’t stand to see me get big in the business |
That’s why they player-hated me |
Talkin my business to them broads like we related, gee? |
It never faded me cause I know where my head is at |
Know where I’m headed at, that’s why I keep on makin… |
Now the deeper the root |
The bigger the square of the loot |
When people think of the bomb shit, they think of the boon, fool |
I’m speakin the truth, partner, seek and you’ll find |
Southern dialect, I’m regulatin, that’s how I gets down for mine |
It’s on to the break of dawn |
So why should I stop kickin these fly-ass rhymes |
That’s puttin these knots in my pocket? |
I’m |
About to rock until I can’t no mo' |
I’m takin this here all the way to the bank for dough |
Cause y’all know, as long as players turn into rappers |
And rappers turn into actors, all these broads’ll be gettin atcha |
Now which non-believin MC wanna see what time it is? |
The rhymin wizard’s about to show you haters what southern rhymin is |
I’m bombin kids, I show no mercy on a braveheart |
Put it down in '94, and never gave thought |
Caught every ???, every ass, checks got cashed |
Fools got slung like the trash, I mash |
]From the scene, never seen by no witnesses |
Partner, don’t try to play dumb, look, you know what this is |
Quit the biz cause y’all ain’t ready for the outcome |
No doubt, son, I’m from the south, and never lost a bout, son |
Now, don’t step, or you’ll get ruined, mayn |
I got you trippin on the way a soldier’s like me over here doin things |
You knew the game, but you blew it again |
Now the head honcho is back, so non-believers, hand over your ring |
Give it up or get broken down |
It’s goin down now, Mike Dean supplied the potent sound |
So now you know it’s a southern thing |
I’m handlin things, I bust a rhyme and do damage to any man you bring |
I’m serious, I told you that way back in '94 |
They wanna flow, it ain’t no thing, just let the record go |
Didn’t you know I bust from southwest to southeast? |
Blessed by the best with this platinum-plated mouthpiece |
So I give thanks, then it’s off to the bank |
Protected by forces unseen, so I ain’t gettin ganked |
As for the fakers and the haters |
Small things ain’t nothin to a player |
I’m all about my paper |
I stacks my chips and then I break |
Gather up my crew to Mike-a-nize, then we go and rock another state |
Forget what another say, I’m backed up by my actions |
Produce a dope hit, make a lick, and leave em askin |
Who is Big Mike? |
and like that I’m back atcha |
Partner, handle your businesss, I ain’t mad atcha |
Million dollar lyrics I compose leave a pattern for quality stature |