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Nappy Roots
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Awnaw(Remix)
作词:Melvin Adams, Ryan Anthony, James Chambers, William Hughes, Brian Scott
Yo, Nappy roots Awnaw
Awnaw, hell, naw, man Y'all done up and done it Awnaw, hell, naw, boy Y'all done up and done it
Awnaw, hell, naw, man Y'all done up and done it Y'all done up and done it, man Y'all done up and done it
My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook You hear me flippin' thru my pages out my favorite notebook The microphone was in the closet, no headphones, we lost it Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin' over the faucets
No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin' to make beats E-Double's been the hustler, flirtin' with all his customers And flat broke, Nappy smokin' grass out on the back po'ch I'm thinkin' I got everything a country boy could ask for
Now, what we do to get here? Say dat, boy Lay it down and bring it to ya raw, say dat, 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 thru what we scared up, but what was we afraid for? Look what we made of, heart that what made us Being here is alright, but must believe we won't fall
Them country boys on the ride With them big fat wheels on the side Peep the vertical grills on the ride And aaw, aaw, aaw, aaw
Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And aww
My llel gon' be hogwild bet that from that roota to that toota-file 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles Kentucky mah, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes Skullied on that front po'ch, 'cuz you know they got 'dro
Seventy-nine Coupe DeVille, purdy cal, patty grill Interstate 65, headin' down to Cashfield Glass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat Benz Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints
A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang 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
I might, hop off the Harley, spoke mine like Bob Marley Not parties with charities, wallin' like they swallowin' Bacardi Them butter-skin, probably gutted like kin Understand you 'bout to lose ya life, fuckin' with Deion
Them country boys on the ride With them big fat wheels on the side Peep the vertical grills on the ride And aaw, aaw, aaw, aaw
Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And aww
Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And aww
Them country boys on the ride With them big fat wheels on the side Peep the vertical grills on the ride And aaw, aaw, aaw, aaw
Them country boys With them big fat wheels Peep the vertical grills And aww
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