[Verse 1]
Welcome to this country fried bonafide
And my flow is sweet as a potato pie
Never been a sour apple, I'm a now-or-later guy
I'mma tell her something sweet and she gon' lick me later, guy
Hello to my hater guy, how you doing sir
I know you got mean words
But keep them to yourself unless those murders will occur
Cause I'm from k**a k** Adamsville right next door
Bowen Homes and Dixie Hills, Allen Temple Wildwood and Plainville
These motherf**ers murder here in plain sight
Everyday broad daylight, they ain't right
sh**'s loco out in Zone 4
Since the '80s it's been that way though
My n***a uncle died shooting back at the po-po
He went out but he ain't go slow though
Even hit the cop back with the 4-4 though
Got buried in the Rolex, Jordans and a Polo
n***a died pretty as a pimp in a photo
Woah-Woah-- Yeen heard fat boy
He ain't say that boy, don't even try to act, boy
That fat black motherf**er got a way with the words
I tell you, he can rap, boy
Respect my words like a rabbi
I'm a porterhouse, you a motherf**ing ribeye
Hate on me to your girlfriend, she gonna look you dead eye
Tell you "So? Motherf**er he still fly."
[Hook]
Ain't I fresh, Ain't I clean?
Ain't I riding through the city in the meanest machine?
(Ain't I??)
Ain't I one-hundred player for sure
Ain't I slick bout pimp game and just might mack on your ho
(Ain't I??)
Ain't I fresh, Ain't I clean?
Ain't I riding through the city in the meanest machine?
(Ain't I??)
Ain't I one-hundred player for sure
Ain't I sleep my pimp game and just might mack on your ho
(Ain't I??)
[Verse 2]
So fresh, so clean, rolling down the street so slow, so sweet
Like a cup of codeine. Smoking on that Irene
With a sweet country girl named Irene
I lean, Feeling irie, I be
Strapped to the motherf**ing T so please don't try me
My Chevrolet lay bu*t naked on the asphault slow flashing her high beams
And I'm still in the company of Irene and we been joined by Maxine
We maxing, relaxing, chilling, double-stacking
And me being the West Side player that I be I'm trying to see what's happening
And what's happening? But not menage, in my garage
With these two young ladies, is the reason I I-dee-daz
That's "All Day I Dream About" That s**ing
You texting, hoping that they call you
I just barbecue and call 'em up and say "Hey fall through"
You know it's shrimp and lobster tails
And they into a room with lots of players
My partners young black millionaires, and they all about some money
Yeah youngin it's a double entendre, you ain't gotta wonder when you ask for Wanda
"What you been doing?" "Hanging out with Shawnna." Yeah, you nuttin' honey
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Moet? Rolex. Big Benz, no flex
Wedding ring on finger, I married a Trina
Pretty as a singer, Fine as a stripper
When we in the strip club strippers try to tip her
I don't want no dance, ho, get up off my zipper
You ain't try to rip me if you ain't try to rip her
We like Bun and Pimp b**h, see we is a duo
This that Ball and J sh**, we don't need no new ho
See I've got a suave mouth which purchases my suave house
This that 2Live Crew sh**, I rap a lot about new sh**
This that country rap tune southern fried funky sh**
I am the antithesis or opposite of monkey sh**
And that's some education for ya'll thinking we unlearned
Cause I often play that Gucci crew and walk around with perms
And we bought them '95 Impalas paint them b**hes orange
We gang-stars like Preem and Guru cause respect was hard to earn
[Hook]