Testo Awnaw - Nappy Roots
Testo della canzone Awnaw (Nappy Roots), tratta dall'album Kentucky Fried Hip Hop
Yo
Nappy Roots, awnaw
Awnaw, hell naw, boy (man)
Y'all went up and done it
Awnaw, hell naw, boy
Y'all went up and done it (let me tell ya)
Awnaw, hell naw, boy
Y'all went up and done it (uh)
Y'all went up and done it (uh), man
Y'all went up and done it (c'mon)
My first song was like 48 bars with no hook (c'mon)
You hear me flippin' through my pages out my favorite notebook
The microphone was in the closet (what?) No headphones, we lost it
Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin' over the faucets (c'mon)
No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin' to make beats
E-Dubz was being a hustler (hey, man), all play flirtin' all his customers
And flat broke, Nappy smokin' Blacks out on the back porch
I'm thinkin' (hey) I got everythin' a country boy can ask for
Now what we do to get here? (Say that, boy)
Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (say that, boy)
Hey, now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for
Hated for the cussin', but the hatred it made us cuss more (c'mon)
Held on (c'mon), but it was hard, stepped up, took charge
Ran through 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 rise
With them big fat wheels on the side
Peep the vertical grills on the ride
And aw
Them country boys (awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all went up and done it)
With them big fat wheels (awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all went up and done it)
Peep the vertical grill (awnaw, hell naw, man, y'all went up and done it)
And aw (y'all went up and done it, man, y'all went up and done it)
My nigga, we hog wild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file
Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes
Skullied on that front porch, plus you know they got 'dro
79 Coupé de Ville, vertical Caddy grill
Interstate 65, headin' down to Cashville
Glass filled, to the tippy-top, backseat Benz
Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints
A damn shame, gotta grind anything and everything
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, smoke mine like Bob Marley
Not parties with shorties, wallin' like they swallowin' Bacardi
Them butter-skin, prop hit gotta like them
Understand you 'bout to lose ya life f-' with them
Them country boys on the rise
With them big fat wheels on the side
Peep the vertical grill on the ride
And aw
Them country boys (awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all went up and done it)
With them big fat wheels (awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all went up and done it)
Peep the vertical grill (awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all went up and done it)
And aw (y'all went up and done it, man, y'all went up and done it)
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grill
And aw
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grill
And aw
Them country boys on the rise
With them big fat wheels on the side
Peep the vertical grills on the ride
And aw
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grill
And aw
Credits
Writer(s): W. James Ii Chambers, Vito J. Tisdale, Melvin Adams, Kenneth R. Anthony, William Rahsaan Hughes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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