Yeah, haha Nappy Roots 
Awwnaw! 

[Hook] 
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! Boy 
Y'all done up and done it 
Ah, y'all done up and done it 
Man y'all done up and done it 

[Fish Scales] 
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 (What?) 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-Dubz was being a hustler, (Heeeyy man!) 
all play flirtin all his customers, and flat broke 
Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po'ch 
I'm thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for 

[Big V] 
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 rise! 
With them big fat wheels on the side! 
Peep them vertical grills on the ride! 
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! 

[Repeat Hook over this part] 
Them country boys 
With them big fat wheels 
Peep the vertical grills 
And awwwwwwww! 

[Saan/Skinny DeVille] 
My yegga, we hogwild, 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 po'ch, plus you know they got 'dro 
Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill 
Interstate 65 headin down to Cashville 
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 

[R Prophit] 
I might, hop off the Harley, spoke mine like Bob Marley 
Not parties with charties, wallin like they swallowin Bacardi 
Them butter-skin, Prophit gotta like them 
Understand you 'bout to lose ya life fuckin with THEEEMM! 

Them country boys on the rise! 
With them big fat wheels on the side! 
Peep the vertical grills on the ride! 
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! 

[Repeat Hook over this part] 
Them country boys 
With them big fat wheels 
Peep the vertical grills 
And awwwwwwww! 

Them country boys 
With them big fat wheels 
Peep the vertical grills 
And awwwwwwww! 
[Repeat] 

Them country boys on the ride! 
With them big fat wheels on the side! 
Peep the vertical grills on the ride! 
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! 
Them country boys 
With them big fat wheels 
Peep the vertical grills 
And awwwwwwww!