[Bun B] Man f'real I love bein from the Dirty South mayne It made me the G I am today, made me the hustler I am today The grinder, the baller; the gangster I am today mayne Lot of people got opinions and, issues and, problems with what they see comin from the South and who doin what in the South mayne But I'ma tell you like this - FUCK YOU DAWG! This the South nigga We gon' be here, we been here, and ain't goin no motherfuckin where Take it how you like it, hate it or love it hoe!
It's that candy paint, 84's, belts and buckles, chrome and grill Leather seats, stitch and tuck, TV screens and wooden wheels Suede roof, neon lights, vogue tire swang and bang Tops drop, blades chop, fifth wheel just hangin mayne White T's, fitted hats, Jordans under dickies (dickies) That Swisher sweet, cigarillos filled up with the sticky (sticky) The fifteens bam'n and the bass kick-kickin Cadillac do's slammin on them 4 4's tippin We ain't trippin just flippin these haters dip when they see us (dip when they see us) Cause they could never beat us best us or be us I'm a G that's a genius, best to just respect my thuggin mayne it's the South, ain't nothin above it and that's why I love it mayne! F'real
[Chorus: Jodeci samples] You're everything I knew! (Ohh yeah) Do what you want me to (I will doooooooo anything) Get on my knees for you (ohhhhhhhhhh bab-bayyy) What else is there to do (I don't know, I don't know, but I'll cry)
[Rick Ross - talking over Chorus second half] Yeah, keepin it trilla baby; Texas, P.A. to H-Town 3-oh-5 to Mi-Yayo... you know what it is
Pray at night when you sellin white, got one ki' tryin to sell it twice Yellow stones all in my shit, yellowbones all on my dick Honeycomb I call my crib, money long that's on my kids R.I.P. to my Uncle Chad, UGK you can't fuck wit that Niggaz fake, they hate candy paint, and all the paper that your partner make Shakin dice like a face of life, champagne just ain't tastin right Haterade they Gatorade, look at these seats they gator made Friend or foe niggaz never know (know) never know when you fin' to blow
[David Banner] Dude scrapin the curb, dippin sippin some syrup Fingers blistered twisted Swishers, Pimp died and it hurt But I handle my issue, I got several pistols that won't whistle, missles knockin gristle from fatty tissue Mississippi's my home, 'til I'm die and I'm gone I know I put it on my back, held that bitch up alone With no label b-backin, pride split into fractions I hit the ocean on peggy bustin back at the crackin And y'all scared (y'all scared)
[Chorus]
[Eightball] Lets talk about Pimp C, Bun B, Eightball, MJG Big Boi, Dre 3000, Scarface, Willie D T.I.P, Young Jeezy, Birdman, Lil Weezy Trick Daddy, Young Buck, SoSoDef, Jermaine Depri J Prince, Rap-A-Lot, Juicy J, DJ Paul Slim Thug, Lil' Keke, Chamillionare, Paul Wall We all different but we all rep the same thang God first, family then money in the South mayne
[MJG] They call me PEEIMP TYTE! MJG The Dirty South, is everything I want Everything I need, everything I'm longin for when I'm outta town gotta get home, just for Everything that I been raised to love, the wisdom my grandmomma gave to us Racial profilin, police harassment regular days to us You say door, we say do'; you say four, we say fo' You say whore, we say hoe; you want more, but we want mo' What else is there left for me to do? This the dedication from me to you The South, I know you gonna see, me through So until I die I wanna be, wit'chu you're everything