![]() Macking pictures off the wall when I creep ![]() Keep a parachute for this altitude cause when ya riding this high make it hard to breathe In my crooked letter hoe, who you know do it better foe?ĭo a lil hop out clean, in my old school time ma-chine I told em ah man hold up country is what country does Let me tell you bout this Old school pourin' lean candied yams and collard greensĬountry country shit (country country shit) Let me tell you bout this super fly dirty dirty Third coast muddy water That my name is Ludacris and I'm like BIATCH! On that brown with a twist, tell these hoes to reminisce ![]() We goin ball till we fall on this ganja get us wastedĪnd I never drink that white all my women think I'm racist I might not be shit too you, but my momma thinks I made it No insurance on these whips tags all outdated My trunk bumpin like an ejected ass shots like a stripper Ten-thousand watt amps, six-fifteen inch kcikers In Atlanta we get that paper can you haters say cheese? Yo potnas want some quarters, my potnas want some keys If you smoking then we got mo' sacks then Troy Polamalu Let me tell ya bout these old school Chevy's I been waiting to tell them about this country shit
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