Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Dirty. Keep It Pimp & Gangsta. Sholl Iz.


[Chorus]
Ain't y'all them boys who be hollerin' "The Gump"?
- We sholl iz
Ain't y'all them boys who smoke wood and stay drunk?
- We sholl iz
Ain't y'all them boys who be talkin' all slum?
- We sholl iz boy, we sholl iz boy, we sholl iz
Ain't y'all them boys who be choppin' that blow?
-We sholl iz
Ain't y'all them boys who be sellin' them hoes?
-We sholl iz
Ain't y'all them boys slammin' Cadillac do's?
-We sholl iz boy, we sholl iz boy, we sholl iz

[Verse 1: Mr. G-stacka]
Now first of all to set it off, we from the southside
So homeboy, don't be runnin' your mouth cause we'll ride
You probably say "Them boys Dirty so shiesty", you damn right
You took too long to gives up our props, so gon' ni
We represent them pimps, them gangstas, them dirty guls
I'm down for all the thugs, cause nigga we run the world
Ain't nothin' y'all can tell me, I stay gone off that dope
And when I'm with my Folks, aye mayne, we act a Billygoat
They ask me what's my name, I tell them That Boy Nutty
No, he be not your buddy, cause he'll leave you bloody
They love to call us county, hell we from Alabama
But I'm gon' bet you this, we got some shit your clique can't handle
But never mind them, cause we know we from the slum
And no matter how you take it, we as filthy as they come
No need to bring your guns, you best be tryin' to run
Cause lyrically, we bring the heat, spit bullets off our tongues
Some niggaz claim they dons, but we just claim we tight
'Fore you get off into this game, be mo' precise bout what you right
So tell me how you feel, to know that we so cold
You can't get mad, you knew that when we made y'all "Hit Da Flo"
So tell me what y'all know, see y'all gon' always say shit
But if you do not spray shit, then y'all be bout some play shit
But I'm about to lay shit... down, nigga hit the ground
Dirty Boyz, y'all the real, you so goddamn trill
We sholl iz

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Big Pimp]
Now you might catch me in my '84 Fleet Brough-ham
Or '68 Chevy small block with the cam'
Forever pimped out, cause that's who I am
Forever on the grind, tryin' to sell a million grams
They call me Daddy Hall, game sweet like yams
In your main girl drawls, she just suckin' on my ham
Well I be goddamn, we got this thang crunk
A lot of haters made cause we blowed up the Gump
In '99 we dropped the hit single "Rollin' Vogues"
We signed with Universal then we made ya "Hit Da Flo"
We kept them rhymes cold, we sacked them dimes swole
We kept them hoes freaky gettin' blowed off that snow
Outer-town niggaz joke, because we talk slow
Damn right nigga, what you wanna talk fast fo'?
You know we from the city where we known to kick do's
Hog-tight your folks with rope, hit he block with your dope
We was raised cut-throat, whole family out the Cove
Grandma house ( ? ) ( ? ), back behind legit store
Aunt and Uncle, Peggy, Van had some cousins that I know
Rodney, ( ? ), Trina, Tracey, little bitty Bo Bo
We mobbed on these streets, we robbed on these streets
My grandma and Dr. King, hell they marched on these streets
You can joke about the south, but we still got our pride
We some hillbilly, Alabama niggaz till we die

[Chorus]