Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song From the South, artist - Trae Tha Truth. Album song Later Dayz, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.09.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Grand hustle, Trae Tha Truth
Song language: English
From the South |
Hold up a minute I’m the king of the ghetto |
Holdin the rap game like wood grain can’t let go |
You niggas’ll never see me I’m on another level |
Stay ready to dig a grave keep a gun and a shovel |
And pourin acid to eat up the evidence |
I be in the rear view now you wonder where I went |
I’m a get you if I owe ya-visit ya residence |
Lay the murk game down and then I’m a hit the fence |
Better keep my mouth closed so they can’t see the shinin |
They think it was Z-Ro cause all they seen was diamonds |
I’m cold as a deep freeze with bags of ice in it |
My three-fifty-seven pretty but ain’t nothin nice in it |
Too many bitches and not enough rubbers |
Got so many of my real niggas under the gutter |
Watch a nigga full of life-life close like shutters |
Godamn stayin healthy is hard as a motherfucker |
Fresh off the block G’s know my name |
Suicide hood and 4-do's swangin the frame |
Cocked up and sideways when I’m tippin the lane |
Showin Asshole By Nature so they know what I claim |
Ain’t no doubt these diamonds in my mouth the best shown |
Well known reppin Texas finna show that I’m well blown |
H Town to Vegas niggas know that I hail chrome |
The feds see I’m ballin so they tappin my cell phone |
And I ain’t mad plus I got the hood at my back |
That’ll go to war with anybody playin with my stacks |
Hit the stash while the slab sideways in the Lac |
Lookin like a «Superstar» Mike D and Fat Pat |
Maybe hit 'em with the ghetto they’ll know that I’m real |
And know that I’m still like UGK keepin it trill |
Look at the grill I promise I’ll be givin you chills |
Like I was Screw in '98 while he was touchin the wheels |
Hold 'em up I’ll show you how we rep-in-the-south |
Tall tees, jeans creesed, J’s step in the south |
And any hater runnin up finna get left in the south |
We keep a trunk full-of-bang that get ya deaf in the south |
And I be fuckin with J Prince and Z-Ro will stay down |
My kin folk Rollin we gon come for the take down |
And show 'em how it go ain’t no more touchin the Grey Hound |
We shine for the south get with it or lay down |
From the South |
I got the diamonds in my mouth |
I’m from the H where niggas on the block all day |
Where we grip the wood and flip 4's all day |
With the king of the ghetto you know we loc all day |
From the tre', to the North, on back to West-8 |
It ain’t a doubt I’m young but I’m a ball for mine |
22's on the Lac sittin tall for mine |
VS1's in my grill when I’m crawl the line |
And if a jacker runnin up he gon be fallin down |
We gon’do it for the Pat and we gon’do it for the Screw |
Doug gotta red, but I’m still ridin blue |
Bring it to the south and I’m a show you what it do |
Trunk up, top down when I come through-Slow, Loud, to the Bang |
Put it like pimp got diamonds on the brain |
If it ain’t a slab better get up out the lane |
Diamonds in my grill got the hood off the chain |
Don’t worry bout a thing… |
I’m from the south where the riders and the rollers be at |
CC’s in my grill I pay a thousand just to see that |
The penitentary is where they never hold me at |
Haters be talkin down but they never hold me back (fuck y’all) |
From a small gram to a whole zone |
If a nigga talk down I’m a break his nose bone |
Cop a new set of 83's and get my poke on |
Get a new sack, roll it fat and get my smoke on |
Fuck a law since a nigga don’t know who it is |
It’s Boss with a mint in my mouth handlin my biz |
Every diamond in my mouth I handle like they my kids |
Drank follow my diamonds when I pop open the lid |
I take 'em to Johnny to get a check up |
Fall up in the hood and kick it just to pick my check up |
ABN and Hoover gang bitch so respect us |
Ears and my neck infested with diamonds in Texas |
From the South |
I got the diamonds in my mouth |
Blucker, blucker, blucker that’s how my gun go |
If I’m lookin aggitated bitch you better run ho |
I used to do the bagguetes but not VS 1's though |
Princess cutts up and down Johnny done those |
I got loud ice just like Paul Wall |
Shinin down south brighter then all y’all |
When it’s time to get ya jewelry done who do y’all call |
Cause you fellas ain’t shinin at all |
Check me out on the 1st and the 15th I’m somethin like a pimp |
Even with a suspended license I’m still finna flip |
Ain’t no limit to this cash ain’t nothin I can’t get |
5 duece Hoover cuz, ain’t nothin like a crip |
Ride with a revolver I don’t fuck with clips |
These roach ass niggas tryna make me bust my chips |
But I’m not a bank I don’t even trust my bitch |
I’m from the south, and I got diamonds in my mouth |