Текст песни Nappy Roots - No Good | Слова песни Nappy Roots - No Good | Тексты песен Nappy Roots

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No Good

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Жанры : hip-hop rap hip hop dirty south southern rap

Видео: Nappy Roots - No Good

(B Stille)
Yooooo!
I said Yooooo!
For all them industry haters that said we couldn`t do it...
This for my country thug street yeagas!
You know we gon`

[Hook]
Smoke good, drink good, eat good, Fleetwood
Nickel bag of funk`ll make a country yeaga sleep good
Yo` hood, my hood, tote heat, sho` should
Folk round here be up to no good

[Verse 1]
(Skinny Deville)
My yeaga lookin like one of them days
I got a Franklin in my pocket, with this lint like a slave
And 20 cent to my name, tryna make this crime pay
Money spent, Ben gone, left me with the Hamil-ton
Window tint, same ol` song
Lincoln on a sack, with the fifty-dat
Bump my song, Get drunk, get it crunk
Country-fried, pack a blunt
Erything tight, Volume 2 off in the trunk, bump
In a slump, head-shot got me pumped like a gauge
Turn the page, flip the script
Hit the script jump, shorty with the dump
In the hatchback, ass fat
Nickel bag of funk, caught a skunk in a rat trap
Sat back, hit it once, hit it twice, pass that
Mashed-out, Fleetwood, Cadillac, headed South
Woodgrain, Pure Grain, hold it in and let it out
Bouncin` like a bunny hunny, tell the shorty set it out
Get in where we fit in, we gon` try our best to sell it out

[Hook 2x]

[Verse 2]
(B Stille)
We makes it hot for `em, feel the flames
Who seperate the real from lames
Yeaga B Stille`s his name
(Where you from?)
The Ville, LaGrange, to Mills and Fane
Look how far Louisville`s done came!
Now break it down

I like my pockets fat
And my weed green
And my liquor brown
And my hens clean
With they panties down
And a beat that keep my yeagas bouncin, bouncin, bouncin, bouncin

Check, check
My mic vocals, is like choke-holds
Fetch the billfold that my cheese is in
And purchase a nickel to help me breathe again
I`m from a place where blood spills and stains
Filled with drug deals and gangs
Yeagas with gold grills and thangs
Drink up, fill ya tanks, spill ya drinks
It`s Nappy, dawg, untamed
Southern slang, unchanged
We sendin` slugs through ya brain
(Fuck what you know, good)
And all my thugs, for the sane

[Hook 2x]

[Verse 2]
(Fish Scales)
A cool cat, with a pimp hat
Cup fulla Gin-Jack
Dreaded out, throwin up deuces
When I`m headed out
Slice it up and bet it out, 5-0-4
Throw the prices up and set it out
Real niggaz never doubt
Swerve to the calico, give me a deuce of that
Make it 2 of that, pack a tip, flush a Optimo
Keep the change, got to go
Flirt, tryna talk dirty
Georgia-bred, you can tell by my Hawk jersey
Hit me up if you get off early
Then I dap out, so clean
Yo honey actin` mo` mean
Napped-out, momma asking me "What`s all that `bout?"
Say I got big plans, look slim but mapped-out
Country boy with country game
Never spittin` nothin` lame
Get paid to rap, still a dap like ain`t nothin` changed
My shit stay Nappy, split ends stay happy
Bad threads must`ve came from his pappy

[Hook until end]

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