the east and the west Where my people at? coming from the north and the south Here to represent my people who ain't got it, no doubt Yo we come from
believe that shit I'm the King cuz I said it and I mean that shit Ay I'm the king cuz I said it, I'm the king cuz I said it I'm the king cuz I said it
m true [Paul Wall] Forget what these boys is talking bout, we wipe boys down In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown From the streets of Antoine, to
can get, them contracts no joke Can't ask Sammy Davis Jr., bout dying flat broke Don't take a rope to hang yourself, this game can be deadly Ask South Park
our head [E.S.G.] We drop the screen niggas, we looking clean niggas We gripping grain, swang and bang from south man to Martin Luther King niggas [
The little shuttle was propelled through the darkness of space Passed light speed stared at a remarkable pace Like a meteor it hit the ground and shook up the land In South Park
narrator strangulation gave him a red colla derrange writa paragraph makin the dead holla the mad magician flashin my south park diploma manipulate minds
we rock throw your hands in the air and please don't stop (um) Tic toc, this is how we rock (Tic toc, you don't stop...) [DOITALL:] Tic toc, this is how we
shitted on themselves when we did it 'cause we holdin' na [Chorus] [Verse Three: C-Note] I'm holdin' na, big Benz looking swollen na Because we young, they probably thinking that we
[talking] Whoa yeah, Lil' Flip the Freestyle King Hold up, from the North to the South Uh, uh, uh [Lil' Flip] Welcome to the South, where niggaz ride
star down south we just sip the bar 20 inches rip the car I gotta be real I'm a rep the toy I'm a stay the king I'm a stay the prince I'm a get the house
the united states of america. Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses. Hailin from the filthy, dirty south, where the kings lay. Ludacris
'm true [Paul Wall] Forget what these boys is talking bout, we wipe boys down In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown From the streets of Antoine, to
south side nigga. ML king, Fabora, Four-five, the whole Four block, Three-tweny. Whats up Koolaide? Yeeaahh. Rest in peace my nigga Steve, Chris Terry, Lil' Mike, Black Horace, we
was Pisa We could eat the flyest cave-aged cheese for sheez, ma Yeah, we could eat Gruyere As if we care We could eat Roquefort Or we could just kick