[Intro: T.I.]
Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah
Listen shawty

[Verse 1: T.I.]
Below da Mason-Dixon Line, ay, I'm da best you gon' find
I'm 'bout mine, I ain't humble 'cause, n***a, it's 'bout time
Rather grind on da corner and hollin' I got dimes
Rather then know that I'm da best in dis shit and not shine
Give a fuck 'bout a clique if it's not mine
Got rhymes, I'm da sign of da time, I'm not lyin'
N***a plannin' on robbin' me blind, stop tryin'
Got somethin' to put a end to 380's and Glock nines
Shit you gotta shoot for your shoulders, won't fit in holsters
Bid on your life, I'm force a foreclosure
I can rebuild a SWAT's of the yay that I got
So I'm da king it don't matter if I say it or not
It don't matter if da old n***as don't wanna say that I'm hot
It don't matter whether my first single was playin' or not
N***a, I stay right here, never go gold
Shoot nine videos and drop records every year
I'm what fake n***as fear and real n***as embrace
Young, skinny, with plenty whores, puttin' n***as to play
Hey, talkin' behind my back, a have me in your face
With da PSC in your safe, while you pee in your cage
[Verse 2: AK]
The one who see me open up the chest, I open up some new checks
I'd rather be both, ride clean and smoke a joke with the death
Better not flex with the ass who's the truth in the West
On the side of banana clues who with the best
Damn right, AK don't be loosin' his grill
Even know who say can rebooven 'em mullis and here is
The trill sun of n***as' future ruining the teens
Make you wonder if you choose be like this, you know who the sick

[Verse 3: C-Rod]
Some n***as steal ain't feelin' the heart, them feel this
See me automatic pumped ,em with them liquor my wrist
Punk bitch got his witch I piece of the Click
I'm 47 piece hit that make me shit legit
I'm talking head, shoulders, and did me a hoe
Cause if your bitch too slow then I'm back on go
We about to clean house, start with the South
Fuck boys stay bout with these name unknown

[Verse 4: Mac Boney]
Now from the start, I been known for this hard
I been down every 6 n***as been hollering Pimp Squad
You can feel where I'm from, you'd get killed where I'm from
With n***as come up, shawty, you gon' feel when I come
I'm gon' ride 'till it's over, I know the n***as you cost to
I burn n***a from some poster with that I fin your roaster
Bustin' n***as is a fetish, I keep that Desert ready
For these aromor cars and these jackers trynna catch me
Fuck greedy pittie, Lord helped the biddy,I'm strugglin' Stevie
On the corner hustle these dimes since my momma can't feed me
Believe me, we got talent, n***as stay talk me greasy
It's easy to teat their ass on up, it's time for the south don't know, oh no
I spit it rough for all these n***as who like to say they're tough
N***a, step on of and I'll blow your ass from here to Lexa town
I'm flexin', uh, 'till you seen this SK, I got plenty drums
Forget your song, we live this life like we're in Vietnam
[Verse 5: Big Kuntry King]
Imma hustla, express my feelings in my music
I'm undisputed and my money - I abuse it
On fast cars speak jewels to how I do it
Crap gain, speech the bills to how I blew it
You know my pops, know my uncles, the JBM
They ran the streets South Philly, it got me damn
There's one thing the streets did, they warm me
If I'm down enough for deapin' on in two deep, motherfucka

[Outro]
You're very much oven agressive, loud
Umm, talkative, you could talk anybody into the ground
And everybody just thought for sure you were gonna be in lawyer