Paroles de la chanson Awnaw (modified-Squeaky Clean) : Yo, yeah, this is the Rocafella remix k**er-Cam, Nappy Roots, y'all ready? Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy Y'all done up and done it Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy Y'all done up and done it Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy Y'all done up and done it Ah, y'all done up and done it Man y'all done up and done it [Fish Scales] My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hooks You hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebooks The microphone was in the closet, no headphones, we lost it n***as scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucets No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin to make beats E-Dubz was being a hustler Always flirtin with all his customers, and flat broke Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po'ch I'm thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for [Big V] Now what we do to get here? (say that boy) Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (say that boy) Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for Hated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss more Held on, but it was hard, stepped up, took charge Ran through what we scared of, but what was we afraid for? Look at what we made of, hard times done made us Being here is alright, but must believe we want more! [Jazze Pha] Them country boys on the rise With them big fat wheels on the side Peep them vertical grills on the ride And awww-aw-aww-aw Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And awwwww [Skinny DeVille] My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota file Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twa*kies with them hundred spokes Skullied on that front porch, plus you know they got dro Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill Interstate 65 heading down to Cashville Gla** filled, to the tippy top, back seat Benz Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints A damn shame, gotta grind anything and everything Jimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary Jane A long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soul To Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy 'fro [R. Prophit] I might, hop off the Harley, smoke mine like Bob Marley Block parties with shawties, wallin like they swallowin Bacardi Them bu*ter-skin, Prophit gutter like kin Understand you 'bout to lose ya life f**in with them [Jazze Pha] Them country boys on the rise With them big fat wheels on the side Peep them vertical grills on the ride And awww-aw-aww-aw Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And awwwww [Cam'Ron] k**er, uh, when it come to New York I'm the man around town, just trust me Down in the buggy, I that cat down in Kentucky Outta Bowling Green, heard ya holding cream Mess with a city slicker, we could mould the team We'll talk in code, smoker be the sandbox Could be the hamhots, or be the lamb chops We'll make wild mills, how ill I'll show you how that denial feel, trade in that cow grill [Twista] Finna head south, get up out the city Smokin' on a fifty, feelin' pretty good With a hood chick, gotta hit a little bit Now she call me daddy in a caddy full of wood Call me country, TV's on the headrest Even if there ain't no seats in the back of me I play the DVD's, for the cars on the streets And the people in back of me I'm trailin', a chevy with a grill or the black cadillac, got the option If it ain't got rims when the drop on the block with no locks than it's not my concoction Hurt 'em with the chrome, rollin' on chrome rims it's the twenties This Nappy Roots and Twista, if it ain't dope then don't call it country [Jazze Pha] Them country boys on the rise! With them big fat wheels on the side! Peep the vertical grills on the ride! And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And awwwwwwww!