B.A.M.A.

B.A.M.A. - Sweet Home Al lyrics

rate me

[Verse 1: B.A.M.A.]

Y'all know who run this here baby, Yeah, put them

A's up! Where you from boy?

Sweet home Alabama, keep chrome in the seat homie watch yo manners

I...cook beef when I cock the hammer

Home of the wood, weed, rocks and gamblers

And uh... ain't nobody speakin' proper grammar round here

It's deep but the sound is clear

We got freaks with the roundest rears

And the beats so sweet like a Swisher, got me clownin' here...holla

Dear dollar come and bless my stack

Come follow where the best is at

We live hotter than the spot where ya pop got arrested at

You will not want to mess with that...then slide

Crimson Tide, rims and rides

I blow limbs on the porch till I'm crimson fried

Them lied when they said BAMA boys wasn't comin'

With the heat, so you better shake somethin' break somethin'

[Chorus:]

Sweet Home Alabama

Where the skies are so blue

Sweet Home Alabama

Lord I'm comin' home to you

[Verse 2: B.A.M.A.]

My state got weight on a thousand blocks

Interstate 65, get around them cops

Not about to stop, got a house to cop

Clubs full of thick chicks with no bouse and tops

Man the south...is hot like a bowl of grits

We ain't broke, big-shot what you supposed to fix

So sick, throw rims on an old V-6

And drop big block hemis in an oldie quick...BIATCH

Sittin' in a tonka toy, slumped

Pimped out Willie Wonka, boy funk

You ain't never got crunk before

Until u tear the club down with the country boyz

I pump noise in the club like 2 18's

Too late, break the scene if you ain't clean

Go back and get yo ride painted

It's pride ain't it

334 to 205, so why taint it

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: B.A.M.A.]

Bama chicks stay fly from head to toe

Energized on so much jive, you'll neva know

Lean out the ride, let it go...bet it fa sho

That everything from their eyes to their necks will roll

Correct bro..so I'ma let you know

they trained to collect dough...undetectable

Rest assured on that, keep her lip on wrap

And keep a super tight grip on ya stack (you'll be aight though)

It's where the skies are blue...and the, wood is green and it's fire too

Prior to what you thought we the size of you,

on red dirt with red eyez and ridaz too,

hell naw - you can't stop what we bout to do,

Wet like a rain drop on a mountain dew

Bounce to what I spit and I'm bouncin' too

I rep A to the grave, cause I'm down for you...BAMA

[Chorus: to end]

Thanks to Joe Moody for these lyrics

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