(feat. Mississippi Mike, San Quinn)
[Verse 1: San Quinn]
Bust like a AK everybody make way
Doin' this the ya way down to a lay way
No cake, on a chase, on a case, anyplace
Still here many rates one shot all it takes
Ballin with the tapes, thought it was a case
Let's investigate, how can one crew carry all this weight
Stop, drop, get mopped, pop they all watch
We shut down shop, hardcore and hot
We were warned a lot and still swarm the spot
We want spotlight if we perform or not
GL, 2001, even though we only 3 buy a house for my son
[Verse 2: JT The Bigga Figga]
Welcome to the West Coast show we got flow
For the dough we're willing to store
You wanna flow didn't know
Seen as down for the pounds they boastin
Three wheel motion we coastin, toastin
Dime piece with crushed ice
Project life ain't nice with three strikes
And the vice, keep you on the run from the streets
When they kickin in yo mama's house lookin for the heat
Complete, shit ain't sweet we got beef
On the street, uno deep we on feet
Straight treat, wonderin why no reply
Souljah rag cover my eye, we too fly
[Verse 3: Mississippi Mike]
From a small town, Mississippi
City of lights, seen bitches smoke dope
Sell they own to pay the rent
Like a matchbox can spread my wings
Niggaz be tryin to ball 'till they fall
But this town is too small
Gotta relocate them dope spots be hot
And in my residents be full of dead presidents
My occupation be gang related
Try to stay motivated
Addicted to chronic smoke and movin keys no joke
A time to kill but feel another season to heal
But I can't tell the system has failed
Sweeter jail, got me under the spell
Catchin tail, and dropped in this devil playground
Don't frown, cuz niggaz from C-Town get down
Women don't frown, I'm huntin mils
Still I'm on a paper chase
Won't stop until I made a million
I see ya mama pop 'em papa maybe
Black sheep on my throne, I hold in my groan
Sometimes I feel like waitin 'till their gone
Southern Expozure Video (MV)
Daz Dillinger and JT The Bigga Figga - Southern Expozure Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
(feat. Mississippi Mike, San Quinn)
[Verse 1: San Quinn]
Bust like a AK everybody make way
Doin' this the ya way down to a lay way
No cake, on a chase, on a case, anyplace
Still here many rates one shot all it takes
Ballin with the tapes, thought it was a case
Let's investigate, how can one crew carry all this weight
Stop, drop, get mopped, pop they all watch
We shut down shop, hardcore and hot
We were warned a lot and still swarm the spot
We want spotlight if we perform or not
GL, 2001, even though we only 3 buy a house for my son
[Verse 2: JT The Bigga Figga]
Welcome to the West Coast show we got flow
For the dough we're willing to store
You wanna flow didn't know
Seen as down for the pounds they boastin
Three wheel motion we coastin, toastin
Dime piece with crushed ice
Project life ain't nice with three strikes
And the vice, keep you on the run from the streets
When they kickin in yo mama's house lookin for the heat
Complete, shit ain't sweet we got beef
On the street, uno deep we on feet
Straight treat, wonderin why no reply
Souljah rag cover my eye, we too fly
[Verse 3: Mississippi Mike]
From a small town, Mississippi
City of lights, seen bitches smoke dope
Sell they own to pay the rent
Like a matchbox can spread my wings
Niggaz be tryin to ball 'till they fall
But this town is too small
Gotta relocate them dope spots be hot
And in my residents be full of dead presidents
My occupation be gang related
Try to stay motivated
Addicted to chronic smoke and movin keys no joke
A time to kill but feel another season to heal
But I can't tell the system has failed
Sweeter jail, got me under the spell
Catchin tail, and dropped in this devil playground
Don't frown, cuz niggaz from C-Town get down
Women don't frown, I'm huntin mils
Still I'm on a paper chase
Won't stop until I made a million
I see ya mama pop 'em papa maybe
Black sheep on my throne, I hold in my groan
Sometimes I feel like waitin 'till their gone
[Verse 1: San Quinn]
Bust like a AK everybody make way
Doin' this the ya way down to a lay way
No cake, on a chase, on a case, anyplace
Still here many rates one shot all it takes
Ballin with the tapes, thought it was a case
Let's investigate, how can one crew carry all this weight
Stop, drop, get mopped, pop they all watch
We shut down shop, hardcore and hot
We were warned a lot and still swarm the spot
We want spotlight if we perform or not
GL, 2001, even though we only 3 buy a house for my son
[Verse 2: JT The Bigga Figga]
Welcome to the West Coast show we got flow
For the dough we're willing to store
You wanna flow didn't know
Seen as down for the pounds they boastin
Three wheel motion we coastin, toastin
Dime piece with crushed ice
Project life ain't nice with three strikes
And the vice, keep you on the run from the streets
When they kickin in yo mama's house lookin for the heat
Complete, shit ain't sweet we got beef
On the street, uno deep we on feet
Straight treat, wonderin why no reply
Souljah rag cover my eye, we too fly
[Verse 3: Mississippi Mike]
From a small town, Mississippi
City of lights, seen bitches smoke dope
Sell they own to pay the rent
Like a matchbox can spread my wings
Niggaz be tryin to ball 'till they fall
But this town is too small
Gotta relocate them dope spots be hot
And in my residents be full of dead presidents
My occupation be gang related
Try to stay motivated
Addicted to chronic smoke and movin keys no joke
A time to kill but feel another season to heal
But I can't tell the system has failed
Sweeter jail, got me under the spell
Catchin tail, and dropped in this devil playground
Don't frown, cuz niggaz from C-Town get down
Women don't frown, I'm huntin mils
Still I'm on a paper chase
Won't stop until I made a million
I see ya mama pop 'em papa maybe
Black sheep on my throne, I hold in my groan
Sometimes I feel like waitin 'till their gone