CROOKED LETTAZ - South's on My Mind lyrics

rate me

(yeah, yo they sleepin on Mississippi)

(Jack-town, David Banner, Gamma Ray Productions boy)

(Stew-pot stow-aways)

[Chorus]

Been a long time, the South stays on my mind

I'm a grown man and everything is fine

[David Banner]

Nobody gives a damn about my place of o-rigin

Jacktown, rounds of empty shells left on the ground

Still smokin

I'm hopin to give the kids something back

Instead of wild-ass stories about sellin vials of crack

Or bitches and cars, but my state left scars

On my man hood, while y'all be screamin that it's all good

When it ain't never been, most kids move to Chicago

And those that didn't were left hollow

Wit low self-esteem but it seems that all my dreams got crushed

But y'all niggas kept it on the hush

So why y'all frontin on the South, come and get some

Ask your scared-ass parents where you from, you crumb

[Chorus x2]

[Kamikaze]

My God, these lyrics hot, you're gonna need sunblock

My verbal's cocked wit ammunition

For you shiesty A&R's who be dissin

You missin, the Southern fried cookin, who you lookin at?

Bustin lyrics from the soundproof straight to DAT

In fact, I'm sick of how you brothers react

My demo says Mississippi but I ain't speakin 'bout no gats

But my raps, are laced wit homicidal tendencies

A Menace like Dennis be, bustin rhymes from here to Tennesse

[David Banner]

Cops rang, my man he done bled to death

And the ambulance done came and left

I'm by myself, with your traces

And my yard you know it's hard, mentally-scarred

Brain-barred little cousin Joe, I done seen the whole thing

I can't seem to get my hands clean

Done washed em twelve times in a row, twelve rhymes is spoke

Twelve dimes but it doesn't ease the pain

Suggestion, (ah, excuse me Mr. Crump can we ask you some questions)

Don't ask me no questions

[Chorus x2]

[Kamikaze]

Now shortly, it be that portly MC from the M-G-T

North Jackson, Mississippi where them brainiacs be

Ain't no hustlers, no gangstas, no slangers an' thugs

The only test for your vest will be verbal slugs

And mean mugs get shrugged out quick, it ain't no fightin

Just down home receitin, and some dope lyric writin

Tighten your skills, before you cross the border into hell

It's that mack, know your state where them stow-aways dwell

[Chorus x4]

[outro: shout outs and hollering for about 20 seconds]

[David Banner]

Check this out right here, this is David Banner

Like to end this song by saying all praises is due to God

God first, yaknowimsayin, music second

Yo peace out to my little god-son Lil' Ju

Peace due to Earl B. Washington, Phinga Print's father