El-P - Southern Fried lyrics

[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]