Country Boyz Lyrics by Nappy Roots

Country Boyz Lyrics

    [Hook: All]
    We just some country boys - country walk, country talk
    Don't bring it round here 'less ya know fa sho' it's jumpin off
    We just some country boys - country walk, country talk
    Don't bring it round here 'less ya know fa sho' it's jumpin off

    [B. Stille]
    Uhhh.. this nigga no games (games)
    With my Hanes tee shirt, with a pic and roll chain (chain...)
    Doo-rag, heavy blue 'Lac - 85 South, don't drive it too fast (too fast)
    My niggaz don't roll no billies,
    get a big box of them brown Dutches (brown Dutches)
    We don't want no brand new Cartel
    Brandon lemme get them keys to the Cutlass (Cutlass)
    Represent for the M-I-L, the A-T-L, the Macktown (Macktown)
    Stay smokin that smackdown, keep myself a little half pound (half pound)
    You know B. Stille in the cut, on the back po'ch Jig drillin it up
    Black folks just livin it up, court next week not givin a fuck!
    What's up? Grown standin - only rap to them grown women (grown women)
    Stay high, we'll play shy, least till I can get home wittem
    Shorty whattchu thinkin? Whattchu drinkin? - thinkin it is what it ain't
    I cain't be trickin, so don't be trippin, thinkin I can't when I cain't
    Come on..

    [Hook: All]

    [Skinny DeVille]
    Nigga hooked it up, like the waitress from the IHOP
    Nothin but the grits, steak, and egg with that
    waitin for the five dollar pancake, front-back side to side
    Them polly country boy, Cadillac, cat sick in the multi-color
    All clean (twenty inches) at the seam (plenty chickens)
    Get the green (spit the swishers) at the Beam (shit done seem)
    Craziest muh'fucker, what y'all niggaz do for cream
    Never knock the hustle scheme, only what the cheddar bring
    Hate, fake-niggaz, hoes, envy, greed, jealousy
    Cain't hate, what a nigga make, type of enemies
    Smilin in my face but they really ain't no friend to me
    Cain't wait, send em eight straight nine milli-mee
    Aww hell naw, y'all niggaz ain't feelin me!
    Colt 45 e'rytime like Billy D
    Ninety-five (?) leave through Tennessee
    Quarter pound with the chron' fuckin wit my memory

    [Hook: All]

    [Hook 2: Fish Scales + (R. Prophit)]
    Peanut butter (Rag-tops) - what's fuckin wit that?!
    (String beans) pork chops - what's fuckin wit that?!
    Dime sack (with the gnac') - what's fuckin wit that?!
    What's fuckin with that?! What's fuckin wit that?!
    Every Chevy (on dubs) - what's fuckin wit that?!
    (Jodi-Bodi) strip clubs - what's fuckin wit that?!
    Nappy Roots (hey dawg) - what's fuckin wit that?!
    What's fuckin wit that?! What's fuckin wit that?!

    [Fish Scales]
    Go down to the country, you won't wanna go back
    Vertical grills in front of the 'Lac
    Guns roll so fast put one in my back
    Plus a buncha country boys wit gats, you don't want none-a that
    Keep - my nine - right beside me, at all times
    Cuz I be in the line, like somma these niggaz you find
    Don't want you to shine, right yea..

    [R. Prophit]
    From the side and nine-to-nine
    Roll around here somethin tryna sell mine
    Lord know but I got a dime early time
    Got me feelin to', now my Eggo's cold
    See I'm a country boy (Huh?) Close the door (Huh?)
    Clinton and Gore (Huh?) Y'all been warned (Huh?)
    Guns and more - better hit the floor
    Them yeggaz want ya cuz they comin in with them laws

    [Fish Scales]
    Fuck - yo life; buck - my chife
    and I got my ride, fool, I'm ready to ride
    For my yeggaz I'ma bring it to you dead or alive

    [R. Prophit]
    Yeah that's fa sho' ya betta know that
    You a nasty hoe, ya betta show that
    Got a quiet lil' spot we can go at
    And if you ain't wit that, we can show you where the do' at

    [Hook: All]

    [Hook 2]

    [music to fade]

SEARCH LYRICS