Candy Paint & Gold Teeth - feat. Ludacris & Bun B
I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Candy Paint and Gold Teeth I'm in Riverdale on 85, at Annlers' eatin' some Soul Food
Clayton County attitude let me know if you down to
Party all night with my people
And if yo' ass go hungry man them old folks they gon feed you
I bring drama like Sammy Sam, I'm so plain fly
Twista, Bumpin' Do or Die
Car clean no suit and tie
Ghetto boy like Willie D
Cartier wood grains like I'm Pimp C, I hold the flame like Bun B
I ain't from the South that's Ludacris that country shit
Fish and grits, y'all full of bits, wet paint, big rims
You can't help, but done notice it, put the beat in it, dark tints
I'm coolin' it wit' my bad bitch, she thick as shit not average
Country hell?, y'all in Riverdale where we at
I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Man I'm sittin' low in my old school, and my locs is on, and I'm so cool
And my top is dropped, so there's no roof and I'm shinin' hard as my gold tooth
I'm trill as hell, and I'm heavy set, pray to the Lord, but don't get it bent
I'm from the hood, and I represent, and I turn it up like the deficit
I'm from Texas bitch, Cadillac no Lexus bitch
Where we ride on fours, this suicide doors that part no flexin bitch
So you best not test us bitch, cause we will get reckless bitch
Catch you on yo' block wit' that big black Glock take more than yo' necklace bitch
Tell me who gon' check us, bitch, we outside, down for the hood nigga we gon' ride
My gladiators, yeah they go live wit' them AR's and them 4-5s
So watch yo' step, and know yo' place, you ain't trill don't show yo' face
Cause I'll pull and pop, and I'll catch a case, and I'll leave the scene wit' no trace
I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Luda!
Fresh out the shop and the candy coated Cadillac stacked on amazin' wheels
Seats look like I hollered at the Reese's peanut butter company and made a deal
Trucks shakin' like jelly these honeys ready to check the spread
Cause I get that cheese, and I sandwich myself between the bread
So keep yo' mind on yo' riches, and get yo' hoes right
Cause in these streets you not safe unless yo' codes right
This southern living is like something you ain't never seen
Ask any hustler his favorite color is money green
Blacked out tint white wall spinnin'
Lookin' for the ham hock neckbone, collard green, cornbread eatin' women
We some country ass certified gangstas in the south
When you speak about who's hottest watch yo' motherfucking mouth
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Candy Paint and Gold Teeth I'm in Riverdale on 85, at Annlers' eatin' some Soul Food
Clayton County attitude let me know if you down to
Party all night with my people
And if yo' ass go hungry man them old folks they gon feed you
I bring drama like Sammy Sam, I'm so plain fly
Twista, Bumpin' Do or Die
Car clean no suit and tie
Ghetto boy like Willie D
Cartier wood grains like I'm Pimp C, I hold the flame like Bun B
I ain't from the South that's Ludacris that country shit
Fish and grits, y'all full of bits, wet paint, big rims
You can't help, but done notice it, put the beat in it, dark tints
I'm coolin' it wit' my bad bitch, she thick as shit not average
Country hell?, y'all in Riverdale where we at
I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Man I'm sittin' low in my old school, and my locs is on, and I'm so cool
And my top is dropped, so there's no roof and I'm shinin' hard as my gold tooth
I'm trill as hell, and I'm heavy set, pray to the Lord, but don't get it bent
I'm from the hood, and I represent, and I turn it up like the deficit
I'm from Texas bitch, Cadillac no Lexus bitch
Where we ride on fours, this suicide doors that part no flexin bitch
So you best not test us bitch, cause we will get reckless bitch
Catch you on yo' block wit' that big black Glock take more than yo' necklace bitch
Tell me who gon' check us, bitch, we outside, down for the hood nigga we gon' ride
My gladiators, yeah they go live wit' them AR's and them 4-5s
So watch yo' step, and know yo' place, you ain't trill don't show yo' face
Cause I'll pull and pop, and I'll catch a case, and I'll leave the scene wit' no trace
I'm from the south, Southern Hospitality
Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners
I'm from the south where the old folks they don't mind they business
Strip clubs is our culture we some heavy spenders
Luda!
Fresh out the shop and the candy coated Cadillac stacked on amazin' wheels
Seats look like I hollered at the Reese's peanut butter company and made a deal
Trucks shakin' like jelly these honeys ready to check the spread
Cause I get that cheese, and I sandwich myself between the bread
So keep yo' mind on yo' riches, and get yo' hoes right
Cause in these streets you not safe unless yo' codes right
This southern living is like something you ain't never seen
Ask any hustler his favorite color is money green
Blacked out tint white wall spinnin'
Lookin' for the ham hock neckbone, collard green, cornbread eatin' women
We some country ass certified gangstas in the south
When you speak about who's hottest watch yo' motherfucking mouth
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Brian Bridges, Bernard James Freeman, Juaquin Malphurs, Carlton D. Jr Mays, Jon R. Redwine, Askia Fountain
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
- Triple F Intro
- Let Dem Guns Blam - feat. Meek Mill
- Round Of Applause - feat. Drake
- I Don't Really Care (feat. Trey Songz)
- Rooster In My Rari
- Get Low - feat. Nicki Minaj, Tyga & Flo Rida
- Fist Pump - feat. B.o.B
- Candy Paint & Gold Teeth - feat. Ludacris & Bun B
- Cash - feat. Wooh Da Kid
- Lurkin - feat. Plies
All Album Tracks: Triple F Life: Friends, Fans & Family (Deluxe Version) >
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