West Savannah

Lyrics

Yeah, I'm back off in this - one mo' time
 To drop this rhyme, 'bout where my roots at
 Yeah, Westside is in the house
 Frazier Homes is in the house
 Cloverdale is in the house
 And Savannah, GA is in the house, so check it
 February 1st, 1975 it happened
 Was born in West Savannah way before I started rappin'
 My momma had a - at the age of 15
 My daddy was sellin' that sack, now he's gots responsibilities
 Stayed at me granny's while me mammy was at work
 And she couldn't watch my every move so sh-, I started servin'
 Around Frazier Home, down in the West Side projects
 Changin' over food stamps, and hittin' a lick was next, see
 I'm just a player like that, my jeans was sharply creased
 I got a fresh white t-shirt and my cap is slightly pointed East
 So flyin', or floatin', a Brougham is what I'm sportin'
 Sade is in my tape deck, I'm movin' in slow motion, boy
 So meet me deep in the streets that's where I learned the capers
 Us lickin' blunts, lickin' leaves, rollin' - papers
 I'm slightly slouched, in the seats off in my bucket
 But the - around the ave, and the (what?) They love me (yeah)
 They wanna be me and my family too
 Because the money that I make be puttin' cable off in every room
 So follow the fiends, follow my lead through the nooks and crannies
 It's every day life off in my hood so come and holla at me
 But go 'head on, with that foolishness, bitch
 Let me get lovely with my swerve because I'm true to this -
 And if you comin' with eight dollars, - out of luck
 Because the West Side ain't takin' no shorts on the dime
 So fire it up
 Now now now
 .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (Like that now, like this, and it don't quit, and it don't stop)
 .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (And it don't stop, and it don't quit, it's like that and uh)
 See, - in the South wear gold teeth and gold chains
 Been doin' it for years, so these rookies ain't gon' change
 They comin' around the ghetto so you might call 'em soul
 Been wearin' furry Kangol's, so that sh- is old
 You might slang a rock or two just to pay the rent
 Five dollars for a table dance so now your money's spent
 You listen to that booty shake music in your trunk
 As long as there's that "Tic-tic" followed by that "Bump"
 I'm down to stick a - if she got a G-strang
 Cause the - in the Pointe ain't changed, mane
 You might call us country, but we's only Southern
 And I don't give a -, P-Funk spot to spark another
 Now, now, now, .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (Like that now, like this, and it don't stop, and it don't quit)
 .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (And it don't stop, and it don't quit, it's like that and uh)
 Now, now, now, .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (And it don't stop, and it don't quit, it's like that and uh)
 .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (Like that and uh, like this, and it don't stop
 And it don't quit, it's like that and uh)
 Now, now, now, .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 (And it don't stop, and it don't quit, it's like that and uh)
 .9 in my hand, ounce in my crotch
 Diggin' the scene with a gangsta slouch, mhm!
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:06
Tempo
85 BPM

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