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letra de southern girl - z-ro

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southern girl
(yeah, she a down south b-tch)
that’s all i need in my southern world
(yeah, i’m on that down south sh-t)
i’m worth a million even though i’m in my house shoes
she see money in motion, every time my mouth move
i’m such an executive but i am so south too
rifles in all of my rides, under the couch too
when i roll up in that bentley, guess what her mouth do
it open up and don’t close, like a do’ house do
you can get some of this p-n-s but it’s gon’ cost you
’cause everyday i’m hustling, like rick ross do
i use to move a lil’ hard, lil’ soft too
now somebody move it for me, i’m a boss, boo
if you was a regular broad, i would of lost you
street smart, somebody done already taught you
she a red head but she love the way i floss blue
f-ck you to sleep and steal your sh-t, i showed her how to
she ain’t a scary b-tch, she’ll bust you in your mouth too
football player with that work, she run a route too
southern girl
(yeah, she a down south b-tch)
that’s all i need in my southern world
(yeah, i’m on that down south sh-t)
yeah yeah, southern girl, yeah yeah, yeah-e-yeah
i’m on that down south sh-t, rolling with my down south b-tch
got a thick b-tch, down in memph’
8 ball sh-t, sp-ce age pimp
and my hoes, they don’t wear no panties
pick ’em up in a white rolls or the phantom
a young n-gg- use to rock gold teeth
before the rap sh-t i would send a whole key
hoe please, never been a trick
always been a real n-gg-, on some boss sh-t
always had a red hoe that was gun thick
she always had stupid head that would c-m sick
down south b-tch, i’m talking atlanta
soul food eater, went to school in alabama
i’m talking bow leg, met her at the galleria
long hurr fat -ss, man, you gotta see her
she for real, b-tch, run ’round in a kia
put her in the bentley coupe and moved her to the crib
southern girl
(yeah, she a down south b-tch)
that’s all i need in my southern world
(yeah, i’m on that down south sh-t)
yeah yeah, southern girl, yeah yeah, yeah-e-yeah
i’m on that down south sh-t, rolling with my down south b-tch
i use to be an -sshole, now i’m a grown man
king of the ghetto, while ruling over my own land
regular women ain’t invited to my home, man
pretty face big booty, whip up a zone hand
that ain’t sweet and sour chicken, cooking in the kitchen
and that ain’t just her home girl, they both into licking
she’ll set you up for that paper, place you into position
them thangs or your life, one of ’em coming up missing
she cornbread fed, almost thicker than my pocket
already came five times but she ain’t stopping
she f-ck with rich n-gg-z but she don’t be name dropping
when you see her with them rich n-gg-z, bet she ain’t bopping
always see her from the back, she never face front
never turn to comb my hair, that’s why she rock a lace front
ain’t no handcuffing, you can taker her home today, brah
she don’t belong to mr. mcvey, brah, homie, she’s a
southern girl
(yeah, she a down south b-tch)
that’s all i need in my southern world
(yeah, i’m on that down south sh-t)
yeah yeah, southern girl, yeah yeah, yeah-e-yeah
i’m on that down south sh-t, rolling with my down south b-tch

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