Yeah, haha Nappy Roots

Awwnaw!



[Hook]

Awnaw! Hell naw! Man

Y'all done up and done it

Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy

Y'all done up and done it

Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy

Y'all done up and done it

Ah, y'all done up and done it

Man y'all done up and done it



[Fish Scales]

My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook

You hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebook

The microphone was in the closet (What?) No headphones, we lost it

Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucets

No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin to make beats

E-Dubz was being a hustler, (Heeeyy man!)

all play flirtin all his customers, and flat broke

Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po'ch

I'm thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for



[Big V]

Now what we do to get here? (Say dat boy!!)

Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (Say dat boy!!)

Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for

Hated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss more

Held on, but it was hard - stepped up, took charge

Ran thru what we scared up, but what was we afraid for?

Look what we made of, heart that what made us

Being here is alright, but MUST believe we won't fall!



Them country boys on the rise!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep them vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!



[Repeat Hook over this part]

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!



[Saan/Skinny DeVille]

My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file

Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles

Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes

Skullied on that front po'ch, plus you know they got 'dro

Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill

Interstate 65 headin down to Cashville

Glass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat Benz

Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints

A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang

Jimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary Jane

A long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soul

To Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy 'fro



[R Prophit]

I might, hop off the Harley, spoke mine like Bob Marley

Not parties with charties, wallin like they swallowin Bacardi

Them butter-skin, Prophit gotta like them

Understand you 'bout to lose ya life fuckin with THEEEMM!



Them country boys on the rise!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep the vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!



[Repeat Hook over this part]

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!



Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!

[Repeat]



Them country boys on the ride!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep the vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww