Lyrics Front Back - T.I.

Front Back

Ladies and gentlemen!
T.I.P., aye!
Fre-fre-fre-fresh!
I know a lot of y’all niggas out there, man, who ain’t up on this down south
shit
Probably wondering what the fuck you listening to right now, ahah!
(King amongst kings)
But it’s an absolute honor and a pleasure, you know what I’m sayin'?
To bring you some gangsta shit of catastrophic proportions
Yeah!
All the UGK alumni, like myself, know what this is, man
Hey, Bun!
Pimp C, nigga!
I gotta '66 Impala so fresh, white top
Vert drop wit' the choppers on deck
Fuel exhaust, and a motor out a ninety-four 'Vette
Fish bowl, televisions pimpin I ain’t done yet
I got the checker red leather and I’m sittin on chrome
On 26 inches just to get my roll on
One of Jeezy’s songs on, make them bitches get low
I get that ass raised up, like Dr. Dre six four
Hey, come up in my hood, bet them bitches know Tip
If you tell 'em you wit' him, all them bitches gon strip
If I show up in yo' hood, I bet you niggas won’t trip
Once I empty out this clip, I bet you niggas gon' dip
Or get hit up in yo'…
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Never let ho-ass niggas ride
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
And we never let ho-ass niggas ride
It’s the Gulf Way Boulevard gangsta
Swangin on T.I., S’s and Fo’s (S's and Fo’s)
Pirellis and Blades and 'em crews of hoes
I’m a playa, you can tell by how I choose my pose
When it gets to swangin on the curb, you might lose ya toes
Dedicated to the slab (slab), the dunks (dunks), the drops (drops)
The candy painted cars wit' the chopped off tops (off tops)
Now put ya diamonds up against the wood wheel
Lean back up on ya leather, chunk a deuce, and show your grill
Keep it trill, this the south baby, Texas and GA
T.I.
reppin for Bankhead, I’m reppin for P.A.
(for P.A.)
Now pop ya trunk, get it crunk, it’s time to ride
Show them boys you got that front back and side to side baby
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Never let ho-ass niggas ride
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
And we never let ho-ass niggas ride
I’m switchin lane to lane (uh), leanin on the switch (on the switch)
Sippin on the barre, smokin green and hittin licks (licks)
Bumpin Too $hort baby, in a candy red Biarritz (Biarritz)
Drop the top and pimp the lot and watch the trunk do tricks (do tricks)
Pimp C, I keep my money on my mind (mind)
Keep a hooker on the track and keep a swisher full of pine (pine)
If y’know like I know, you wouldn’t try it (try it)
Wanna jack me for my candy car, you must wanna die (wanna die)
But I don’t really wanna hit ya with this hot thang
I just wanna get some brain in the turnin lane
Comin down creepin slow, sippin on a potent fo'
Bangin on the Screw, and keep the pistol right here in the do'
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Never let ho-ass niggas ride
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
Back, front back, fron-front back, fron-fron-front back, side, side
And we never let ho-ass niggas ride