Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dirty South, artist - Slim Thug. Album song Boss Hogg Outlaws, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.02.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: SoSouth
Song language: English
Dirty South |
Huh hold up, 2000 and 2 |
You already know how we do |
You know I’m saying, pull up in front of the club |
Banging looking good, hopping out and swanging on blue |
Boss Hogg Outlaws, doing what they wanna do |
Security talking bout, turn the music down |
Man we walk up to the club, do what we wanna (huh) |
Smelling like dro you already know |
Slim Thug tell 'em how we do it |
We riding big body Benz, Gucci shade lens |
Me and all my friends, got the platinum diamond grins |
Every thing I’m in spin, on twenty inch Lorenz |
Laid back on buck skin, with my braids in the wind |
Not a twin, but me and Ray Face got twin Coupes |
Me and my super thoed group, drop platinum hits like Snoop |
I can’t hoop, but people still call me a balla |
And I can’t shoot, but people still call me a shot caller |
Standing taller than the rest, staying dressed to impress |
Twenty karats on my chest, Gator boot, suits and vests |
Don’t mess with the best, cause we put boys to rest |
Respect that Houston Tex, cause we break and stack checks |
Dirty Third sip bar, endo in cigar |
Menage tois in the spa, like a porno star |
Me and E up to par, wherever we are |
Flipping bar foreign cars, double R Jaguars |
You don’t wanna bang with us |
Cause you know we dangerous |
If you real, you can swing with us |
Cause we are from that Dirty South |
When we hit the club, you know we thugged out |
Twenty-fo' seven, them boys they iced out |
First thing they say, who let them Hoggs out |
They must be from the Dirty South |
Carmen San, and you got’s to like me |
Cause I’m pulling up fly, looking nice and icey |
If a playa wanna hit, tell me what the price be |
Six digits no less, baby don’t strive me |
Hopping me and my crew, roll up big body Benz |
Chromed out twenties, big bubbled eyed blue lens |
All my playas set trends, and spend big dividends |
Southside showing up, blowing up bubbling |
Club parking is packed, me and my click walking in |
Diamonds shining, blinding and sparkling |
Best believe we squash that chatter, they stopping and talking in |
When the club let out, this Big Billy I’m hopping in |
Big stack of paying dues, sitting fat on 22's |
9−5 Air Macks, my platinum FUBU |
Squatting in my drop, my Cardier watch |
The mo' Lac I got, the harder they bop |
Stash spot for Glock, two tone Navigator hot |
Boss Hogg calling shots, trying to block spray the block |
Make 'em stop, three karat rock the ice thick |
Baller blockers caught a flicks, I’ma pull up my convicts |
This is it, everything I spit a hit |
Got swanging and banging, popping trunks reclining kits |
In the mix, in a 6 with a body full of gliss |
Two punching keys chicks, Sade and G the shit |
Twenties turn and twist, with each lane I switch |
Mary Jane in my piss, wood grain in my fist |
Clarion screens lit, banging at a high fix |
Banging R. Kelly screwed, I Wish, I Wish |