the mic you better sing like you believe like you believe, like you believe, like you believe, like you believe like you believe in you, like you, like you believe
sing like you believe Like you belive, like you belive, like you belive, Well the marley was the tune little j was in the womb My mommy put the head phones
better sing like you believe Like you belive, like you belive, like you belive, Well the marley was the tune little j was in the womb My mommy put the head
) Dirty South (dirty dirty) Can y'all really feel me (really?) East coast, feel me (say wha) West coast, feel me (uh huh) Dirty South (dirty, dirty, dirty
rap) Pobre, I ain't retarded, you know we off that (Off that) From the west, my brother, to the east Back down To the diggy dirty for sherzy (What the
bout we hook up tonight? Jacuzzi's, sweet hotel, dirty movies, oh that's well I'm such a freak, ooh la la, groove me w/ that tail Down and dirty, rough
While bullets shower the earth We turn our heads and cover our faces Now flames devour the sky And i hear these words in the back of my Mind Chorus:
girl's sure don't like you You going on like thirty-six, flowin on some berry mix The little money you get, you blowing on them dirty chicks Tryna look
Yeah, believe it or not What kept me alive is my dreams I'm a Dreamer but I ain't the only one got problems But we love to have fun This is our world
going round and We keep going round and round We keep going round and round We keep going round and round Round and round and round I can't believe it
with, murder them or get high with It really don't matter, it just depend on the situation for me Like I don't get down and dirty, I can't believe nigga
of mine Only thing I qualify for, is murder and Penitentiary time Y'all should of shot me, in the jimmy instead But I guess they was feeling eachother, to get head
friends turn to foes over money and hoes I can't believe my best homie ain't my nigga no more Remember days of playing hookie in the streets for fun Now I'm getting dirty
in this bicth for scrilla We make sure the dirty work get done Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton Scratch makers, nigga we killers Putting heads
a low budget label Even if I don't clear me in I just want to be living well Not saying that heaven is promised to me but I don't want to believe in hell
found dead and deceased This ain't no game, ain't a damn thing changed Cause I came, to bring the pain Glock ass still fits, running on they head while
wanna see me in my grave (more or less I be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less) Go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less) Only taking head
and they all called me phony And said I was kickin' a bunch of that baloney But they soon found out, and now they all believe' Cause every Tuesday after