Get On Dis Motorcycle (feat. Bubba Sparxxx)

Lyrics

Y'all ready
 Y'all ready
 Y'all ready
 One of the illest rhymers that ever came outta Carolina
 Put this whole shit on the map
 Went back got two states, y'all crammed way to the back
 And brought 'em up to the where the rest of 'em at (cause I can do that)
 Granddaddy was real strong, daddy was in the Army
 I was a bad motherfucker, slightly retarded
 Mentally institutionalized, since the '85
 Buildin tree houses (that the wind couldn't blow down)
 Look at me now, holdin it down
 Doin it well, I ain't triple platinum yet (but ain't gon' worry 'bout it)
 I'm wearin the good damn crown, man I'm the president
 And reppin both states (back here in Carolina)
 Where the hell did you find 'em? (boy is an animal)
 His flow is incredible, style is bananas
 I just wanna go to the Grammy's and I don't care if I win
 Just to say I've been god dammit (god dammit)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 On the hurl and dirt road, them big ass pot holes
 Lay in a - old home, lay in a - screen doors
 Car in the back yard, dog chain tied up
 Ain't drove it in years, sittin on nothin
 Spit crunk mosquito buckets, hot wood heaters
 Hooked up Honda Accord, with house speakers
 Bag, phone and beeper, corduroys and sneakers
 Pit Spike Lee's and them shell toe Adidas
 You don't know shit 'bout Petey (Petey)
 Real definition of the greasy, grimy and gritty
 You really fittin to sellin drugs for another nigga
 Always lookin at me like your trigger finger itchin
 I give ya my best witness, when you come to handle your business
 You better be ready to get it, cause I don't be bullshittin
 I'm up into plastic bottles cause if I keep on feelin the way I'm feelin
 I'ma blow up in this motherfucker
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 Twenty-seven dollars to my name, headed up
 85 pissy drunk, Petey still made me drive
 Left off from LaGrange, passin through Squattenburg
 On the way to High Point and my speech startin to slur
 Better tell these sons of bitches, boy to move won't allow for me
 To stop and say I'm sorry to this dude and this scout
 It was just a little bump, shit you dented my Ferrari
 Don't call the law, shit is rented, look I'm sorry
 All we have done in the name of the south
 Gave these ugly motherfuckers somethin to "Raise Up" about
 But I'm still unfulfilled, since my daddy still drivin
 That fuckin school bus, know that Bubba still strivin
 I want me a label, want me a mansion
 Timmy can't give it to me, Jimmy ain't spit it to me
 Rest assure though, the day is approachin
 When these old country boys ain't just playin, they coachin
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Y'all ready, get on dis motorcycle
 Y'all ready
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Y'all ready
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)
 Get on dis motorcycle
 Get on dis motorcycle
 And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:02
Key
7
Tempo
100 BPM

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