Nelly - ATL 2 STL lyrics

(Rasheeda) ATL to STL, on them things and crunk as hell Your system blast, then let it bump Spark the L and raise it up Fifteens in my sh**, you know it's gon' bump Nelly ridin shotgun, n***a, pa** the blunt We into what-ever, and keepin it crunk Got twenty-inch BB's on my white Benz truck Aw sh**, we done did it again From ATL to the new, but still breakin 'em in Playin to win, fire hot, burnin ya skin Platinum hit number two, y'all made me do it again This Rasheeda, I'm ridin n***as through the dirty From Old ??? to Cambleton flippin birdies Bendin and swervin, I got this muthaf**a turnin Threw up the double R, heard the sirens, kept it burnin (Hook-Rasheeda & Nelly) ATL to STL (we ridin) On them things and crunk as hell (we ridin) Your system blast then let it bump (we ridin) Spark the L and raise it up (we ridin) (Nelly) I'm 'bout to pull up in the ATL, eighteen inches and five screens Old folks on the side and they reachin for Visine Five b**hes right behind me, more flashin than high beams Like, (Nelly, where you goin, can I go?), by all means Keep the door open, drivin the ave, mami get in Matter fact, don't ya come without, whoo, bringin ya friends One shotgun, three in the back, one on my lap What's the outcome, we in the sack like Warren Sapp Open ya mouth hun, "we don't do that", don't give me that Why ya tongue done, say "aaaaahh", f** it, that's what I thought I was peepin that since the first time I saw ya Timed ya walk from therr (there) to the time I parked So keep ya one eye open for the haters that gawk But still thugged out, candy coated and thugged out Real stud guy, blink, now the guns out I'm a show you what that A-T-S-T-L is about, dirty (Hook) (Rasheeda) I love wood grain and, tinted, painted, and dusted out Threw on some new shoes, drop the top and skated out Then I hit the block, non stop, numero uno Iced up, platinum b**h, breakin n***as to the zero Call me the hero, better yet, the lieutinent Takin charge of the game, best believe I'm gon' win it See, it ain't no thing for me to put it down You jumpin out your draws for this b**h from down south Now put 'em up, and throw your hands in the air Now tip the cup, like you just don't care Stepped in the club, with my n***as from the D-Low We keep this thing crunk and droppin bows on them hizzoes (Hook)