Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Virginia, artist - Vic Chesnutt. Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Song language: English
Virginia |
| You ready to do this, nigga? |
| You ready to come down here? |
| It’s Virginia, nigga… |
| We do this in broad daylight… |
| It’s a whole different degree of homicide, nigga… |
| You ready? |
| I’m from Virginia, where ain’t shit to do but cook (Talk about, what?) |
| Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books (Talk about, what?) |
| Where we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?) |
| So when we pull up, it ain’t shit to do but look (Talk about, what?) |
| In my Home Sweet Home I keep chrome next to my bones |
| Alters my walk to limpin' |
| Since I love the feel, I guess I’m passionately pimpin' |
| It 'tis what it seems |
| That thing imprintin’through the seams of my jeans, by all means |
| Lost it all, from lives to love |
| Put my faith in my money, help me rise above |
| See I turned to the Lord when them times got tough |
| Bullied through streets, powder I pushed and shoved |
| In that ole’Virginey |
| Out of ten niggas, nine are guinea |
| No money, all they know is gimme, got semis waitin' |
| Heat like Caribbean summers, I been there |
| Each year, a diffferent bitch wonder |
| Who wing she gon’fall under, Push’or Mal' |
| Ganga grinds, wit’me, with thoughts of fuckin’them cross her mind |
| Look ma, that’s right up my alley |
| I love my family, I want them all happy |
| In Virginia, we smirked at that Simpson trial |
| Yeah, I guess the chase was wild |
| But what’s the fuss about? |
| See, plenty my partners feelin’like O.J. |
| Beat murder like the shit is OK, that’s what our door say |
| Talk the evil that men do, I’m lost in the mental |
| I miss you Sh&oo, we miss you Sh&oo |
| And your grams, too… |
| My nigga… |
| Fo sho… |
| I’m from Virginia, where ain’t shit to do but cook (Talk about, what?) |
| Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books (Talk about, what?) |
| Where we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?) |
| So when we pull up, it ain’t shit to do but look (Talk about, what?) |
| Seem like they all got a comment to make |
| In regards to my paper, now they guessin’my weight |
| They fast to predict the outcome of my fate |
| Wonderin''bout Clipse and if they got what it take |
| Malice, he think he hard, tough guy of the clique |
| And Pusha, he walk around like he swear he the shit |
| You right on both counts, bitch, Clipse is us And there are some things that you don’t discuss |
| Don’t ask me 'bout the Neptunes and what’s they fair |
| Don’t ask about the loud screamin’chick with the hair |
| Don’t ask about my music, and how that’s comin''bout |
| Don’t ask about my album, or when’s it comin’out |
| 'Cause I feel like you really being funny on the slide |
| Now face down, layin’on your tummy, or you die |
| I tried being humble, humble get no respect |
| Now the first sign of trouble, that’s a hole up in your neck |
| Plus, what I look like spendin’my nights in jail |
| I could never be a thug, they don’t dress this well |
| I reside in VA, ride in VA |
| Most likely when I die, I’m gon’die in VA |
| Virginia’s for lovers, but trust there’s hate here |
| For out-of-towners, who think that they gon’move weight here |
| Ironic, the same same place I’m makin’figures at That there’s the same land they used to hang niggas at, in Virginia… |
| I’m from Virginia, where ain’t shit to do but cook (Talk about, what?) |
| Pack it up, sell it triple-price, fuck the books (Talk about, what?) |
| Where we re-up, re-locate, re-off them brooks (Talk about, what?) |
| So when we pull up, it ain’t shit to do but look (Talk about, what?) |
| Young’n… (Talk about, what?) |
| This is real, young’n… (Talk about, what?) |
| You lookin’into a whole different world, young’n (Talk about, what?) |
| This is real… |
| Live… |