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Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh |
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Southside, what y'all ******s know about the dirty south? |
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One time |
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[Chorus] |
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Lord forgive me, for I've sinned |
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Over and over again, just to stay on top |
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I recall memories, filled with sin |
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Over and over again, and again |
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Yo, when you hear talk of the southside, you hear talk of the team |
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See ******s feared Prince and respected Prim' |
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For all you slow mutha******as I'm a break it down iller |
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See Preme was a business man and Prince was the killer |
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Remember, he used to push the bulletproof BM, uh huh |
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This here get ya seasick, I sat back and peeped ******t |
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The roll with Easy Rider and they ain't get blunted |
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Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred |
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As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack |
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I used to idolize cat |
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Hurt me in my heart to hear that ****** snitched on Pat |
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how he go out like that? |
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Rumors in the hood was ?? was snitchin |
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I ain't believe that, pa, he helped me cop my first GSX-R |
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Had the four-runner, the Z, the 5 and the 3 |
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Used to drive his truck through the hood draggin jet skis |
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From Gerald Wallace to Baby Wise, don't be suprised |
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Of how freely I thought of names of games who dealt with pies |
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Like L-A-N-Y's, L got shot in the neck, then told us connect |
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Them ******s who shot 'em got 'em for ten bricks |
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****** Dominicans, turned around and gave 'em more bricks |
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[Chorus] |
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That first verse is just a dose of the ******t that I'm on |
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Consider this the first chapter in the ghetto's ****** |
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I know a lot of ******s that get dough like Remmy and Joe |
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And Prince and Rightous from Hillside with the mole on his nose |
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Throughout my struggles through the hood, I started learnin |
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Life's a ******, with a pretty face, but she burnin |
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Man I'm a get cheese like Chaz then run through wips like Cigar |
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Gamble all the time like country-curly head Prince and Tata |
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Po-po under pressure too, they know what they facin |
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Go against crews like B-Bo and killers like Patty Mason |
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A lotta ******s I know been corrupted since birth |
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Enticed to rob nuns for fun, for everything they worth |
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I know some cats that hail at old complexes like Cooley Wall |
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Together ******s stand and divided they fall |
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Round here, shook ******s they keep it in motion |
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Come around here with your rollie you can get robbed like Ocean |
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Lord knows, Tommy had loved and sold |
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Helicopters, Rolls Royces with Louie VaTonne interior |
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Might sound like I'm fantasizin, but son I'm dead serious |
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Montanna was no dummy, brought Benice to watch the money |
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Had money out the ass, he politic like the Asian |
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FEDs couldn't catch him dirty so settled for tax evasion |
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[Chorus] |
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Yo, rest in peace to Rich and Ron, money what they was about yo |
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The twins was some queens but got crazy cream with Alpo |
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Throughout my time I heard tales of Himey |
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Frenchy, Jamaican Pauly, Ducky Cally |
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Rodney Bump and Chick, ******t |
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A lot a ******s flow the way I flow |
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but ain't been in the game all their life so don't know who I know |
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Writin rhymes is the best way I express how I feel |
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If I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail |
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Comin up I heard sippin to much booze'll leave you confused |
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And if you watch the news you see playas in this game that lose |
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I'm forgettin Lefty and Jazz, Pretty Tony and Lance |
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Head Lou, Mel son, Troy and E Money Bags |
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And a conversation over shrimp and lobster |
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And Benny Hiners heard Chico stopped boxin, and started robbin diners |
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Shout out to Clanvis and Clutch, Bob Dre, Black Will |
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If the flow don't kill you the Mac will |
