Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Southern Girl, artist - Z-Ro.
Date of issue: 19.09.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
A Southern Girl |
I’m worth a million, even though I’m in my house shoes |
She see money in motion, everytime my mouth move |
I’m such an executive, but I am so South too |
Rifles in all of my rides, under the couch too |
When I roll up in that Bentley, guess what her mouth do |
It open up and don’t close, like a do' house do |
You can get some of this penis, but it’s gon' cost you |
Cause everyday I’m hustling, like Rick Ross do |
I use to move a lil' hard, lil' soft too |
Now somebody move it for me, I’m a boss boo |
If you was a regular broad, I would of lost you |
Street smart, somebody done already taught you |
She a red head, but she love the way I floss blue |
Fuck you to sleep, and steal your shit I showed her how to |
She ain’t a scary bitch, she’ll bust you in your mouth too |
Football player with that work, she run a route too |
Southern girl, (yeah she a down South bitch) |
That’s all I need in my southern world, (yeah I’m on that down South shit) |
Yeah-yeah Southern giiiiiiiiiirl, yeah yeah yeah-e-yeah |
I’m on that down South shit, rolling with my down South bitch |
Got a thick bitch, down in Memph' |
8 Ball shit, Space Age Pimp |
And my hoes, they don’t wear no panties |
Pick em up, in a white Rolls or the Phantom |
A young nigga, use to rock gold teeth |
Before the rap shit, I would send a whole key |
Hoe please, never been a trick |
Always been a real nigga, on some boss shit |
Always had a red hoe, that was gun thick |
She always had stupid head, that would cum sick |
Down South bitch, I’m talking Atlanta |
Soul food eater, went to school in Alabama |
I’m talking bow leg, met her at the galleria |
Long hurr fat ass, man you gotta see her |
She for real, bitch run round in a Kia |
Put her in the Bentley coupe, and moved her to the crib |
Southern girl, (yeah she a down South bitch) |
That’s all I need in my southern world, (yeah I’m on that down South shit) |
Yeah-yeah Southern giiiiiiiiiirl, yeah yeah yeah-e-yeah |
I’m on that down South shit, rolling with my down South bitch |
I use to be an asshole, now I’m a grown man |
King of the Ghetto, while ruling over my own land |
Regular women, ain’t invited to my home man |
Pretty face big booty, whip up a zone hand |
That ain’t sweet and sour chicken, cooking in the kitchen |
And that ain’t just her homegirl, they both into licking |
She’ll set you up for that paper, place you into position |
Them thangs or your life, one of em coming up missing |
She cornbread fed, almost thicker than my pocket |
Already came five times, but she ain’t stopping |
She fuck with rich niggas, but she don’t be name dropping |
When you see her with them rich niggas, bet she ain’t bopping |
Always see her from the back, she never face front |
Never turn to comb my hair, that’s why she rock a lace front |
Ain’t no handcuffing, you can taker her home today brah |
She don’t belong to Mr. McVey brah, homie she’s a |
Southern girl, (yeah she a down South bitch) |
That’s all I need in my southern world, (yeah I’m on that down South shit) |
Yeah-yeah Southern giiiiiiiiiirl, yeah yeah yeah-e-yeah |
I’m on that down South shit, rolling with my down South bitch |