Can U Dig It

Countrified nigga
Southern fried chicken
I'm chillin' in the parkin' lot Cadillac drippin'
Ordinary nigga
My dash stay smokin' and my lighter stay flickin'
Now bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it?

This shit sound like '92
I'm in that old thang
My cousin rock the jerry curl and the gold chain
Feel my suit and matching kicks, Rolex, and diamond ring
Three-eighty underneath the CD, might just let it bang
Whoa, we from the A, you don't wanna play
Out that sweet shit, niggas be doin' out days, ain't really how we was raised
We don't rock no purses, we don't Devil worship, don't show off our guns, bodies just get dropped in hearses
I love Magic city, I love ass and titties
I used to window shop at Lenox, I ain't have a penny
I love Mary Jane, I love chicken wings
I'll take that combo with the fries, sweet tea, and lemonade
Lil' bitch

Countrified nigga
Southern fried chicken
I'm chillin' in the parkin' lot Cadillac drippin'
Ordinary nigga
My dash stay smokin' and my lighter stay flickin'
Now bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it?

Big body, Chevrolet, canned paint, wood grain, steering wheel
Sweatpants, flip-flops, white T, snap-back, keep it real
Backwoods, loopholes, marijuana, twenty-four inch rims
I'm slammin' those, havin' hoes, pass 'em on, flashin' my gold grill
Both my niggas pop percs like candy and they drink ling like water
Not cause' they think shit cool, cause' they wanna heal pain this life done caused them
And he ain't finna spend no bread unless that seal came on that bottle
And he pull every drop he can even if that shit stick to the bottle (To the bottle)
Drip, drip, drip, hey
I know the players and pimps, hey
I know your niggas and OG's, I know blue collars and killers, hey
Shorty just popped [?], hey
He finna rob 'em a nigga, hey
Then he came up on em' bands, hey
Soon as he got it he spent it, hey

Countrified nigga
Southern fried chicken
I'm chillin' in the parkin' lot Cadillac drippin'
Ordinary nigga
My dash stay smokin' and my lighter stay flickin'
Now bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it, can you dig it, can you dig it?
Bitch, can you dig it?



Credits
Writer(s): Darius Armstrong, Jerren Spruill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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