[Hook] I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders Candy Paint and Gold Teeth (x8) [Waka Flocka] I'm in Riverdale on 85, at Annlers' eatin' some Soul Food Clayton County attitude let me know if you down to Party all night with my people And if yo' a** go hungry man them old folks they gon feed you I bring drama like Sammy Sam, I'm so plain fly Twista, Bumpin' Do or Die Car clean no suit and tie Ghetto boy like Willie D Cartier wood grains like I'm Pimp C, I hold the flame like Bun B I ain't from the South that's Ludacris that country sh** Fish and grits, y'all full of bits, wet paint, big rims You can't help, but done notice it, put the beat in it, dark tints I'm coolin' it wit' my bad b**h, she thick as sh** not average Country hell ?, y'all in Riverdale where we at [Hook] [Bun B] Man I'm sittin' low in my old school, and my locs is on, and I'm so cool And my top is dropped, so there's no roof and I'm shinin' hard as my gold tooth I'm trill as hell, and I'm heavy set, pray to the Lord, but don't get it bent I'm from the hood, and I represent, and I turn it up like the deficit I'm from Texas b**h, Cadillac no Lexus b**h Where we ride on fours, this suicide doors that part no flexin b**h So you best not test us b**h, cause we will get reckless b**h Catch you on yo' block wit' that big black Glock take more than yo' necklace b**h Tell me who gon' check us, b**h, we outside, down for the hood n***a we gon' ride My gladiators, yeah they go live wit' them AR's and them 4-5s So watch yo' step, and know yo' place, you ain't trill don't show yo' face Cause I'll pull and pop, and I'll catch a case, and I'll leave the scene wit' no trace [Hook] [Ludacris] Luda! Fresh out the shop and the candy coated Cadillac stacked on amazin' wheels Seats look like I hollered at the Reese's peanut bu*ter company and made a deal Trucks shakin' like jelly these honeys ready to check the spread Cause I get that cheese, and I sandwich myself between the bread So keep yo' mind on yo' riches, and get yo' hoes right Cause in these streets you not safe unless yo' codes right This southern living is like something you ain't never seen Ask any hustler his favorite color is money green Blacked out tint white wall spinnin' Lookin' for the ham hock neckbone, collard green, cornbread eatin' women We some country a** certified gangstas in the south When you speak about who's hottest watch yo' motherf**ing mouth [Hook]