I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows
A fucking love dirty south gold grill in my mouth
Not a week goes by without a fight
If your head right, i’ll be there every night
Maybe life would be a lot better if i lived down south,
And the blouses of these bitches always end up in my house
In a few places, the rest of the south they're all baptist,
And older women put a nigga on their bucket list
This battle goes to who spits the sickest shit
I got two whole tears in a bucket
Bet your bottom dollar before i'm done
Cough up a lung where i'm from, the south son,
It all just goes south 'till they make these bad decisions,
Rich, 2pac and the click, smokin' blunts, loadin' clips
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