Southern Fried

Welcome to this country-fied, bonafide

and my flow is sweet as a potato pie

Never been a sour apple, I'm a Now N' Later guy

I'ma tell her somethin sweet and she gon' lick me later guy

Hello to my hater guys

How you doin, sirs? I know you got mean words

But keep them to yo'self, unless those murders will occur

Cause I'm from Killa Kill Adamsville

Right next door Bowen Homes and Dixie Hills

Allen Temple Wildwood and Plainsville

These motherfuckers murder in plain sight

Everyday, broad daylight, they ain't right

Shit's loko out in Zone 4

Since the 80s' it's been that way doe

My nigga uncle died shootin back at the po-po

He went out, but he ain't go slow though

Even hit the cop back with the fo'-fo' doe

Got buried in a Rolex, Jordans and a Polo

Nigga died pretty as a pimp in a photo

Whoa WHOA~! Yee'n hear fat boi

He ain't say that boi, don't e'en try to act boi

That fat black motherfucker got a way with the words

I'll tell you he can rap, boi

Respect my words like a rabbi

I'm a Porterhouse, you a motherfuckin ribeye

Hate on me to your girlfriend, she gon' look you dead in the eye

and tell ya, "So, muh'fucker, he still fly!"

[Chorus]

Ain't I fresh? Ain't I clean?

Ain't I;m ridin thru the city in the meanest machine?

Ain't I, ain't I 100? Playa fa' sho

Ain't I slick 'bout pimp game and just might mack on yo' hoe, ain't I?

Ain't I fresh? Ain't I clean?

Ain't I'm ridin thru the city in the meanest machine?

Ain't I, ain't I 100? Playa fa' sho

Ain't I slick 'bout pimp game and just might mack on yo' hoe, ain't I?

So fresh, so clean

Rollin down the streets so slow, so sweet

like a cup of, codeine, smo-kin on that, I-rene

wit a sweet country girl named Irene, I lean feel-in irie

I be, strapped, to the motherfuckin T, so please don't try me

My Chevrolet lay butt naked on the asphalt flo' flashin her high beams

And I'm still in the company of Irene and we been joined by Maxine

We maxin, relaxin, chillin double stackin

And me bein the Westside player that I be

I'm tryna see what's hap'nin, and what's hap'nin?

Mé-na-na-nage in my garage

These two young ladies is the reason I +A.D.I.D.A.S+

That's All Day I Dream About that Sex scene

You textin, hopin that they call you

I just BBQ and call 'em up and say, "Hey, fall thru"

And you know it's shrimp and lobster tails

when they enter the room with lots of players

My potnas young black millionaires

And they all about some mon-ay~!

Yeah young'n, it's a double entendre

Yee ain't got to wonder, when you ask LaRhonda

what she been doin hangin out with Shawnna

She tell you, "Nuttin, hon-ey~!"

[Chorus]

Moët, Rolex, big Benz, no flex

Wedding ring on finger, I married a Trina

Pretty as a singer, fine as a stripper

When we in the strip club, strippers try to tip her

I don't want no dance, hoe! Get up off my zipper

You ain't tryna rip me if you ain't tryna rip her

We like Bun and Pimp, bitch! See we is a duo

This that Ball and G shit, we don't need no new hoe

See I got a suave mouth which purchases my +Suave House+

This that 2 Live Crew shit, I +Rap-A-Lot+ 'bout new shit

This that country rap tunes, Southern fried funky shit

I am the antithesis or opposite of monkey shit

And that's some education for y'all thinkin we unlearned

Cause our uncles played that Gucci Crew and walked around with perms

and we buy them '95 Impalas, paint them bitches urr-ange

We get +Gang Starrs+ like Preem and Guru cause respect was +Hard to Earn+

[Chorus]