Yung Redd - Deep Down South lyrics

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Yung Redd - Deep Down South lyrics

Come on, uh... [Lil' Ron] I'm bout to cause a disaster, like a earthquake Eighteen's, got little kids dropping milk shakes I smoke and sip eights, poured in one soda Treat my girls like dogs, n***a teach em to roll over Give em the cold shoulder, if they don't listen But they quickly convinced, when they see them rims twisting Better pay attention, to that n***a Lil' Reezy It takes six dimes in bikinis, just to please me Better believe me, its real in the field My chain like yellow lights, it make people ill In the Porsche switching gears, like a Nascar racer And the rocks on my bracelet, got it looking like a glacier I'm a clutch player, like Robert Ory These cats ain't balling, they telling stories But ain't gotta worry, bout H.S.E If I ain't hating on you, then why you hating on me [Chorus: Big Shasta] We from the deep down South in the city In the light, and I be seeing these girls be looking pretty That's why, I got to stay on my grind So we can be a hundred percent, all the time Y'all don't know where we from (where we from) Y'all don't know where we been (where we been) [Yung Redd] Its like one for the money, and two is for them hoes Three is for the drank, Four pa** me the smoke You won't see me riding, in any ole Benz Unless its jet black, on twenty inch rims I got more Air Force, than the government Every color pair, I'm so fly trust me I'm loving it I never leave the hoe, with just a single rubber And I crawl like Ringling Brothers, hoes love us Under the in-fluence, catch me swerving Playing in a number six, like Julius Irving My watch and my chain, got me coughing and sneezing Still a young heathen, as long as I'm breathing I pay for a show, turn it out then I'm leaving The way the man told us, its flossing season This year we got it made, we shining y'all Even though we got a due, we still grinding y'all [Chorus: Big Shasta] [Lil' Flip] Who am I, name is Lil' Flip And I roll with, two clips Just in case, something happen While y'all n***as yapping, I'ma be capping Rolling with my strap and, pistol packing Glock 9's, Tech 9's, even a Mack 10 I'm not acting, I pack clips so Play your roll, and stick to the script Before I flip, and empty the clip I'm Gladys Night, cause I'm a pimp We eating shrimp, and catching planes You know I'm great, at catching dames And what's your name, where you live Will you give some brain, do you got kids Cause if you do girl, its okay So pa** the syrup, f** the courva**ier [Chorus: Big Shasta]