Down South (feat. Yella Beezy & Maxo Kream)

(La música de Harry Fraud)

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters

What's the sense of it all?
Pimpin', powder and- tryna make pennies
Lie on the stand, guess hell ain't harder than prison, who knows?
In the '90s, a traffic stop get you tickets, a joke
Now they find you, a traffic stop get you riddled with holes
We be livin' too fast, we be sippin' it slow
One of my n- was sellin' work, now he sellin' out shows
I meet Jay so that's growth, pay attention, take note
You over 40 and movin' work, better be by the boat

Better be by the dock, better not be by your home
If- really wan' hurt you, they gon' leave you alone
'Cause them peoples is comin'
Where your loyalty, youngin?
When a rapper say: Free my n-
His lawyers get hungry

And everybody wanna be a trap
'Cause them rap trap get paid
And don't nobody want to be a trap trap
When them badge got you on tape, yeah

Art imitatin' life, I got to saying lies
Got these suburbanites thinkin' y'all ain't afraid to fight
Right in the mirror cryin' a little, you shakin', right?
Your soul is in prison and there is no visitation rights

Down South slangin' music with these hustlers
Keep it true to self and never sell out with these busters (no!)
I ain't finna tap dance, I don't give a f- though
Keep it true to self and keep it cool when n- cutthroat
Run it

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters

I got the coca- lady, white lady, by the ki' (ki')
Ayy, cup full of Texas, poured by the three (three)
Hopped out the Porsche, went and sold me a P (A P)
Smoke a p- like I rolled me a leaf (like a leaf)
All smoke, put a hole in his teeth (ayy)
Boom, bop, bam, put a hole in his cheek (ayy)
Talkin' tough but you a ho in the streets (ayy)
Come and get knotted, freaky ho- in the sheets (ayy)

Hustle like a motherf- (oh, oh)
Servin' Scudder Butter (oh, oh)
Undercover (oh, oh)
And I ain't stutter, motherf- (oh, oh)
Hit 'em with the blocka, blocka (oh, oh)
Quick to serve me a cloc- (oh, oh)
You borderline d-suckers (oh, oh),
Tryna take some pics, suckers (oh, let's go)

Baby, make your leg bend, yellow b-, a red skin
In DC like a Redskin, come and give me head then
My youngins popped a lead in
Your dread then
Oh, you wanna tussle? We gonna see how n- play it then (on God)

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers (yeah)
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters (uh, uh)
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers (yeah, look)
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters (Maxo, Maxo, Maxo)

Down South slangin' (huh), servin' all these customers (uh-huh)
Like Bill, I keep some pills
Keep a Heath cliff like Rudy Huxtable (okay)
On the real, you might get killed
Don't touch my chain 'cause this untouchable
Big black .9 on my hip, yeah, I'ma shoot
That b- ain't cute but she still f-ble (Huh)

Racks on racks, move packs
Sell packs at school, had packs like Lunchables (alright)
Tote gats on gats, .45s and MACs
We bust our straps at constables (boom)
Hundred chops, my sack, no phone with her (ayy)
On Adderall but it's still functional (vroom)
Still aired out at her function, though (what?)
That Draco so dysfunctional

Used to be robber, Igbo Naija boy, go ask Wale (uh-huh)
Yellow bone on top to give me sloppy toppy as I lay (suck it)
Pull up on a opp, a chopper rocker hit him while he lay (boom-boom)
I spend some chips to get you killed
My Crips gon' make you Frito Lay

Bangin', we don't really tussle
If I can't get that thang in
Then I'm not finna go clubbin' (hell nah)
Every since my bro got killed I can't trust, I can't trust nothin'
Can't even trust my Crips because
A Crip killed Nipsey Hussle (Maxo, Maxo)

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters

Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters
Down South slangin', rollin' with these hustlers
Tryna get rid of all you haters and you busters



Credits
Writer(s): Stayve Thomas, Olubowale Akintimehin, Rory William Quigley, Paul Michael Slayton, Antonio Felipe Hernandez, Salih Williams, Markies Deandre Conway, Emekwanem Ogugua Biosah, Michael A. Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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