Southside Comin' Lyrics
| Song | Southside Comin' |
| Artist | E.S.G. |
| Album | All American Gangsta |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : J. Catalon, C. Hill | |
| [Intro] | |
| Southside's coming - 4x | |
| Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh - 2x | |
| Southside's coming - 8x | |
| [Hook] | |
| If you don't give a what, like we don't give a what | |
| Let me see you, put your hood in the air - 2x | |
| If a hater jump up, what we tell him (back-back) | |
| See my click bust first, it ain't no time to (clap back) | |
| See they talking like they killas, but where they (straps at) | |
| This the Dirty South boy, what you know about that | |
| [E.S.G.] | |
| Out the Superbowl city dog, yep ya boy E.S.G | |
| Like a George Foreman grill, man I'm known to cook heat | |
| Spit heat for the street, over crunk beats | |
| Crack my trunk, I crack concrete | |
| All my gangstas bounce with me, blow a hydro ounce with me | |
| Fake gangsta rappers, don't wanna go to war | |
| You dummies might as well and bust, send ya ass to Mars | |
| Better bulletproof your cars, if you running ya mouth | |
| We turn Maybachs to drop tops, with choppers down South | |
| Don't make me knock you cowards out, you be crying like ya gay | |
| You the type, that'll marry Brittany Spears for a day | |
| See plenty of weight, plenty of them rocks | |
| Boys never seen you, on no block | |
| Boys never seen you, pop no Glock | |
| Boys never seen you, dodge no cops | |
| H-E-L hot, H-Town we right behind | |
| If them hatas holla back, it's hollow tips through they spine | |
| Doctors holla flat line, hate to see a crying lady | |
| Cause I'm straight with a 3-80, like a black Tom Brady | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Intro] | |
| [E.S.G.] | |
| Gotta make your mail, gotta make your bread | |
| Can't be scared, to push ahead | |
| Don't give a damn, what no one said | |
| Got's to keep, your family fed | |
| Whole lot of homies, been mislead | |
| Get caught up, they wind up dead | |
| Running round, like they ain't scared | |
| Boys round here, will bust your head | |
| Like my dog Juve said I need it, I need it in my life | |
| I ain't trying to be Mystikal, and go to jail tonight | |
| Playa pressure bust pipes, and ya pipes bout to bust | |
| I don't care where you from, homie throw your hood up | |
| [Hook] | |
| [E.S.G.] | |
| Like Walter Payton we skating, on black spinners and daytons | |
| Escalade I'm navigating, and to hell with probation | |
| Motivation determination, dedication and paper chasing | |
| I avoid the frustration, and aggravation from the hating | |
| Spit game is my occupation, a thug with a education | |
| Tryna teach to reach my nation, you boys see what we facing | |
| Radio station no rotation, they told me to be patient | |
| How the hell can I keep on waiting, these fakas keep on faking | |
| Fascination with them toys, I love A.K.'s | |
| Let me see you rep your hood, M-I-A to L.A | |
| Down South don't play, next time you come our way | |
| Let me see you get crunk, now that's what Lil' Jon would say | |
| [Hook] |
| zuo qu : J. Catalon, C. Hill | |
| Intro | |
| Southside' s coming 4x | |
| Oohoohoohoohoohoohooh 2x | |
| Southside' s coming 8x | |
| Hook | |
| If you don' t give a what, like we don' t give a what | |
| Let me see you, put your hood in the air 2x | |
| If a hater jump up, what we tell him backback | |
| See my click bust first, it ain' t no time to clap back | |
| See they talking like they killas, but where they straps at | |
| This the Dirty South boy, what you know about that | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Out the Superbowl city dog, yep ya boy E. S. G | |
| Like a George Foreman grill, man I' m known to cook heat | |
| Spit heat for the street, over crunk beats | |
| Crack my trunk, I crack concrete | |
| All my gangstas bounce with me, blow a hydro ounce with me | |
| Fake gangsta rappers, don' t wanna go to war | |
| You dummies might as well and bust, send ya ass to Mars | |
| Better bulletproof your cars, if you running ya mouth | |
| We turn Maybachs to drop tops, with choppers down South | |
| Don' t make me knock you cowards out, you be crying like ya gay | |
| You the type, that' ll marry Brittany Spears for a day | |
| See plenty of weight, plenty of them rocks | |
| Boys never seen you, on no block | |
| Boys never seen you, pop no Glock | |
| Boys never seen you, dodge no cops | |
| HEL hot, HTown we right behind | |
| If them hatas holla back, it' s hollow tips through they spine | |
| Doctors holla flat line, hate to see a crying lady | |
| Cause I' m straight with a 380, like a black Tom Brady | |
| Hook | |
| Intro | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Gotta make your mail, gotta make your bread | |
| Can' t be scared, to push ahead | |
| Don' t give a damn, what no one said | |
| Got' s to keep, your family fed | |
| Whole lot of homies, been mislead | |
| Get caught up, they wind up dead | |
| Running round, like they ain' t scared | |
| Boys round here, will bust your head | |
| Like my dog Juve said I need it, I need it in my life | |
| I ain' t trying to be Mystikal, and go to jail tonight | |
| Playa pressure bust pipes, and ya pipes bout to bust | |
| I don' t care where you from, homie throw your hood up | |
| Hook | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Like Walter Payton we skating, on black spinners and daytons | |
| Escalade I' m navigating, and to hell with probation | |
| Motivation determination, dedication and paper chasing | |
| I avoid the frustration, and aggravation from the hating | |
| Spit game is my occupation, a thug with a education | |
| Tryna teach to reach my nation, you boys see what we facing | |
| Radio station no rotation, they told me to be patient | |
| How the hell can I keep on waiting, these fakas keep on faking | |
| Fascination with them toys, I love A. K.' s | |
| Let me see you rep your hood, MIA to L. A | |
| Down South don' t play, next time you come our way | |
| Let me see you get crunk, now that' s what Lil' Jon would say | |
| Hook |
| zuò qǔ : J. Catalon, C. Hill | |
| Intro | |
| Southside' s coming 4x | |
| Oohoohoohoohoohoohooh 2x | |
| Southside' s coming 8x | |
| Hook | |
| If you don' t give a what, like we don' t give a what | |
| Let me see you, put your hood in the air 2x | |
| If a hater jump up, what we tell him backback | |
| See my click bust first, it ain' t no time to clap back | |
| See they talking like they killas, but where they straps at | |
| This the Dirty South boy, what you know about that | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Out the Superbowl city dog, yep ya boy E. S. G | |
| Like a George Foreman grill, man I' m known to cook heat | |
| Spit heat for the street, over crunk beats | |
| Crack my trunk, I crack concrete | |
| All my gangstas bounce with me, blow a hydro ounce with me | |
| Fake gangsta rappers, don' t wanna go to war | |
| You dummies might as well and bust, send ya ass to Mars | |
| Better bulletproof your cars, if you running ya mouth | |
| We turn Maybachs to drop tops, with choppers down South | |
| Don' t make me knock you cowards out, you be crying like ya gay | |
| You the type, that' ll marry Brittany Spears for a day | |
| See plenty of weight, plenty of them rocks | |
| Boys never seen you, on no block | |
| Boys never seen you, pop no Glock | |
| Boys never seen you, dodge no cops | |
| HEL hot, HTown we right behind | |
| If them hatas holla back, it' s hollow tips through they spine | |
| Doctors holla flat line, hate to see a crying lady | |
| Cause I' m straight with a 380, like a black Tom Brady | |
| Hook | |
| Intro | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Gotta make your mail, gotta make your bread | |
| Can' t be scared, to push ahead | |
| Don' t give a damn, what no one said | |
| Got' s to keep, your family fed | |
| Whole lot of homies, been mislead | |
| Get caught up, they wind up dead | |
| Running round, like they ain' t scared | |
| Boys round here, will bust your head | |
| Like my dog Juve said I need it, I need it in my life | |
| I ain' t trying to be Mystikal, and go to jail tonight | |
| Playa pressure bust pipes, and ya pipes bout to bust | |
| I don' t care where you from, homie throw your hood up | |
| Hook | |
| E. S. G. | |
| Like Walter Payton we skating, on black spinners and daytons | |
| Escalade I' m navigating, and to hell with probation | |
| Motivation determination, dedication and paper chasing | |
| I avoid the frustration, and aggravation from the hating | |
| Spit game is my occupation, a thug with a education | |
| Tryna teach to reach my nation, you boys see what we facing | |
| Radio station no rotation, they told me to be patient | |
| How the hell can I keep on waiting, these fakas keep on faking | |
| Fascination with them toys, I love A. K.' s | |
| Let me see you rep your hood, MIA to L. A | |
| Down South don' t play, next time you come our way | |
| Let me see you get crunk, now that' s what Lil' Jon would say | |
| Hook |
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