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South Memphis Rugrats (Remix)
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Young Dolph
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I say what I mean, I mean what I say b*t*h Gone in sixty seconds, never let a b*t*h stress me (Uh-uh) Before the microphone, I made a milli' off the celly (Yeah) I love to see her walk away because it look like jelly (Shake) Went from zero to sixty in two seconds on Pirellis I'm always at the jewelry store, I got a diamond fetish (Ice) Smokin' on this kale while I'm countin' up this lettuce (Yeah) Stack it to the sky, I believe that I can fly Told the man in the mirror that you one hell of a guy If I can do it, so can you, but sh*t, who the hell am I? Who said it's lonely at the top? 'Cause that's a motherf**kin' lie I brought my homeboys with me, ballin' in South Memphis like Dubai Rolls Royces back-to-back-to-back-to-back, oh my god (God, god, god, god, god, god, god, god, god) I mean that sh*t (God, god, god, god, god, god, god) Hold up, let me finish (Wait) She so fine, I put it in and tried to touch her kidneys I'm too motherf**kin' rich to go and eat at Denny's (What?) But f**k that, I'm in a Jack Pirtle's drive-thru in a Bentley (Hey) Front seat got my semi (Uh), opps, yeah, I got plenty (For real, though) Playin' with these M's, but I started out with pennies (Yeah) A hundo in my skinnies (Yeah) Louis XIII, shots of top-shelf Remy (Yeah) Grew up thuggin' just like Hoover Deuce, baby Jimmy b*t*h, hey (Hey) Yeah, I grew up thuggin', I'm a South Memphis rugrat (Rugrat) Baguettes drippin' on my neck, these b*t*hes love that (Drip) When I pop out, I got big, gigantic, stupid racks (Big racks) f**k a job, I beat the block, I had to flip a pack (Flip it) Self-made n***a, I'm hustlin' (Hustlin') Can't go back to the days when I ain't have nothin' But I won't forget 'bout the struggle (Nah) I was just stackin' up racks in the trap in my shoebox, now I stuff that sh*t in a duffle (For real) My plug keep sendin' them loads and I just keep flushin' 'em, call him back, I need another one (Another one) Ridin' 'round town with a pocket full of Jacksons, I stack up them hundreds and fifties (Fifties) Keep me a Draco, it got a banana clip, and the AR came with titties Thirty-three shots in my Glock, Scottie Pippen (Yeah) Double my cup, so you know what I'm sippin' (Double up) Really havin' this sh*t, n***a, no, I ain't trippin' (Nah) Paper Route the mob, n***a, I'm never flippin' (Yeah, on gang) Yeah, I ain't never flippin' (Flippin') Only thing that a young n***a is flippin' is these motherf**kin' packs that I'm gettin' (Yeah, that I'm gettin') And I ain't worried 'bout none of these lil' broke-ass n***as or these b*t*hes (b*t*hes) Everything a n***a do out here in these streets, they just gon' mimic (Yeah, mimic) Seventy-five hundred for a show, lil' n***a, I'm booked, ain't no gimmick (Yeah, no gimmick) All my cars 6.0s, them b*t*hes V8, yeah, they Hemis (Hemis) Young n***a really havin' motion, I done served the whole damn Memphis (Memphis) Make a play with white, it end up bitter or Mac Miller (Mac Miller) Really made a killin', off of vacuum sealin' (Sealin') Never been in love 'cause I can't really catch no feelings (No feelings) Never had no nine-to-five 'cause I love drug dealin' (Drug dealin') Been up in that field, lil' n***a, go and ask lil' Willy (Lil' Willy) Beat the block up 'til the dope all gone (Yeah, yeah) Trappin' real, real hard off of two phones (Yeah, both of 'em)
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