Khujo

Gipp

T-Mo (Uh-huh)

Y'all know how we do it down here in this dirty, man

It's your boy Nitty, and you know what I do

We gone represent this thing right to the fullest (alright)

Southwest (what?), Dent (who?), East Point (what?), College Park, where y'all at?

All my niggaz, you know what time it is

Y'all know how we get down

To the fullest

Alright

Let's do it



[Verse 1: Khujo]

K to the H to the U to the J to the O G double O D to the I to the E

One for the G MO to the B

Schooled by the B to the E to the S to the T

Hundred percenter, so winner

Suck up and see the venom like it ain't no thing

Then wash it down it with a glass of Tang

Bang cock suck them rappers mouthing off in a magazine

See the fire, feel the flame

Jacktime Atlanta mafia came

We don't care who you with

Screw your name

Snatch your chain

Street punks messing up the game

Once a lame, always a lame

Trick busters ain't who they claim

Come around here wiling out, you will get changed

It's business, never personal

Get it with a chain on your brain

Get it with a lick we, um, at a shooting range

You can holler God MC, but you gone die like a man

Blood is pain

I make it simple and plain

Blat point blank range

All these poppas leave the bathroom in his name

It's a crying shame

What a nigga do for the fame!



[Ad-libs]

This is what really goes down in the South

We gone get down shawty



[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Drank smoke dro

Stack dough

Pimp hoes

Pockets on swole with a mouth full of gold

How we ride in the South

Playing house four doors

Drop the top when it's hot

Pump the heat when it's cold



[Verse 2: Big Gipp]

Remember me?

Big Gipp, AKA the Big Dipper

Moon pot flipper

If the flame fizzle

I'm a go to the block and set the niggaz

Most improved hitter

In the pocket like a rocket is how I like it

I'm a cantaloupe spitter

Let the horn blow

Hoes too

Hold true and drive through

If I couldn't walk around I took the train or flew

Look what it come to

More hugs, more lies, more love, more flies

More ways of turning corners burning up my new rally tires

I keep it stinking like Doritoes

Never owned a pair of Speedos

Never slacking Cadillac jacking

Damn he just so sweet

Choking Killa B with no tint

Want the whole world to see

Thorugh the tree

Glass house, rag top, and pass out

Hit the stash house

Get what I need and then I mash out

Couple turkey legs

Throw a few golds up in my head

Comprehend what I said

This is truly how it be representing for East Point

When I'm standing in the field



[Chorus]



[Verse 3: Murder]

You can find me

Somewhere in Decatur in a Chevy and I'm riding on dubs

Or you might see

Me coming through the streets with a freak in the late night clubs

Hustling for that cheese

Standing in the hood in the cut me and my dog on a shopping spree

From the west did a robbery and I saw my first call hit jazzy T

Then we hit Magic City and headed for the bounce

Blowing chronic leaves

Or should I say dro?

My click won't blow by the ounce

Lyrical arsonist

Living in the slums in Atlanta they got me for me murder

I run with the hardest clique

In the S.W.A.T.s to the deck I was a hard ass nigga

Better show you we off in a velvet room

Was fucking in a gentleman club

We in VIP

Sipping crystal

From the goose to the yack

We can see SOV, Goodie MO B my nigga Khujo

On a plate trying to get rich

The way that we spit be ridiculous

And we'll go head over any lyricist

From Gooben to Cambleton Road

Platinum making fee all the way to College Park

From Bankhead to Gabbey Road

My whole clique nothing in the city ever born so hard

So

This is for

The niggaz with the dough and whips sitting on two threes

So all the real motherfuckers can forget about the ghetto with a real 'Lac

in the streets



[Chorus]



[Verse 4: T-Mo]

It's the dirty dirty playa

Just hit thirty

Bullseye

Better not cry

Make birds fly

Off in the sky

Away so high

Everybody dies

Many try, miss

Get what you get boy

Talk that shit boy

Flip them bills

Crooks get killed

Nine millimill

Running them suckers up out the ville

Trill

Still, waters run deep

Off in the South

While they sleep

Off in the South

While they creep

Open up your mouth and sing!

Off in the South we

Built this bitch

Run this bitch

Hit that switch

Up and down

Flip that trick

Ride it 'round

Black white doors

Pound for pound one of the best to ever represent the mighty southwest

ATL to the fullest

ATL to the fullest!



[Ad-libs]

There you have it

I want to congratulate all the DJs

Who got a chance to play this record without the club getting tore up

From yours truly

Sincerely

Nitty