k**er Mike - Georgia (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: k**er Mike] Welcome to Georgia Home of James Brown... Home of Ray Charles... Home of Little Richard, home of Outkast, home of Goodie Mob, home of Camoflauge, home of me One time for 'Jo goodie [Chorus: Deacon] The clay is runnin red rom the blood that done been shed down in Georgia Now we weepin to the sound from the color of the ground down in Georgia [Verse 1: Khujo Goodie] Home of the red clay and the rebel flag Now when you on your stripes with whips on your back Now when you click your heels and say they say there's no place like home But at the same time better protect your georgia dome [? ] boys still out there they General Lee's Using DNA and bloodhounds just to find me Don't think it's gravy bro, we still on the plantation All the way up to Kentucky back down to Macon n***as with attitudes tired of the middle slavery Like the red, white & blue finna come and save me They still ain't paid us damn? give me my 40 acres Money ain't no good it just some worthless piece of paper Grindin through vapors, flushin through the backrows This for my folks, on probation and parole So guard your soul, dot your eyes, get on your P's & Q's Cause in the cotton fields boy, you snooze, then you lose [Chorus] [Verse 2: k**er Mike] Hot damnit, Georgia summers hot like satan Got me in the kitchen, no shirt, no apron Purp black skin like waffle house bacon Just whip the chevy tryin' to whip up a vacation Old lady cousins on they way up from Macon Got a couple college boys coming in from Atlas Seems all my life I've been grinding and cappin Cappin' and juggin, juggin and pluggin' But when you think about it it is rather disgusting I hail from the state where the dreamer dreamed a dream 40 years later, c**a cola is king And I'm not referring to a damn soft drink Just a couple thoughts I had on the cook-up Can't afford to dwell on 'em, can't get shook up You scared, got to church, if you with it, then re-up Cooked preachers with the dope, got em vote for the most in [Outro: Deacon (k**er Mike)] Georgia The clay is runnin red From the blood that done been shed down in Georgia (You know what it is GA, GA Home of the brave) Now we weepin to the sound From the color of the ground down in Georgia