CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Georgia
(Womatic)
(Bizzy!)
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A (Yeah)
678, 404, bed made
I get my bed made, nigga now I'm skraight
I ain’t even gotta starve, I ain’t hungry, I done ate
Got me feeling like a star when I walk up in the place
I ain’t got time to play, put all hundreds in your face
Put them hunnids in your face, OK, OK
Put ‘em in your baby face, OK, oh yay
We smoking on gas, they smoking hay
And I ride down to Nat in a drop-top Wraith
Shout out to Chainz, shout out to my momma
Yes, I love her like no other
Shout out to my brother, we rose up out that gutter
Shout out to my sister, I miss you, you know I love you
Shout out to my my glizzy for never jamming, no problem
Shout out to the East Side, West Side, South Side
Shouts out to the young niggas thugging that's outside
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner (Yeah!)
A-T-L-A-N-T-A (Alright!)
678, 404, bed made
I’m from where the rent kinda low
When you sleep on the floor
And the stick in the crib and the pit by the door
Long johns with the shorts even when it ain’t cold
Seen a lot of shit that no one ever told
In Georgia, Ray Charles
On the corner, 8 ball, 15, AR
I’m from the apartments, never held a rake at all
We used to put the paper cups in the dish water
Trap jumpin’ like Vince Carter
Ride MARTA, shit, every Friday, Chris Tucker
I treat the streets like my big brother
ATL, barbecue sauce in my fingernail
We gon set it off to the right, to the left
And I’ma rep this state till I run out of breath, yeah!
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
678, 404, bed made
My girl hair lay, now she looking skraight
Food stamps back, ain’t no fast food today
Tryna get eat, need a home-cooked steak
Rice with the beans, greens falling off the plate
Said I was born in Georgia, grandma spoil ya
Where the Falcons never win but they loyal
Everybody banging with a whole different gang
But we still together, gotta make it through the rain
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
Hardball baby, we ball (?)
678, rent due, Section 8
First you got respect, get from my pay
School shoes never dirty, momma didn’t play
Smoke a blunt at the bus stop, bitch always late
Skipping class, in the hallway, catching the play
I’m tryna make it to the top, I ain’t got time to wait
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
678, 404, bed made
Put your hands up if you from Savannah
Put your hands up if you from Atlanta
Put your lighters up if you from Augusta
Hand round your girl if you know you love her
Hand round your man if you know you love him
Salute to Macon and I fuck with Columbus
229 showing love to Albany
I’m from the Peach State, I ain’t stunting on Applebee’s
Tea
(Bizzy!)
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A (Yeah)
678, 404, bed made
I get my bed made, nigga now I'm skraight
I ain’t even gotta starve, I ain’t hungry, I done ate
Got me feeling like a star when I walk up in the place
I ain’t got time to play, put all hundreds in your face
Put them hunnids in your face, OK, OK
Put ‘em in your baby face, OK, oh yay
We smoking on gas, they smoking hay
And I ride down to Nat in a drop-top Wraith
Shout out to Chainz, shout out to my momma
Yes, I love her like no other
Shout out to my brother, we rose up out that gutter
Shout out to my sister, I miss you, you know I love you
Shout out to my my glizzy for never jamming, no problem
Shout out to the East Side, West Side, South Side
Shouts out to the young niggas thugging that's outside
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner (Yeah!)
A-T-L-A-N-T-A (Alright!)
678, 404, bed made
I’m from where the rent kinda low
When you sleep on the floor
And the stick in the crib and the pit by the door
Long johns with the shorts even when it ain’t cold
Seen a lot of shit that no one ever told
In Georgia, Ray Charles
On the corner, 8 ball, 15, AR
I’m from the apartments, never held a rake at all
We used to put the paper cups in the dish water
Trap jumpin’ like Vince Carter
Ride MARTA, shit, every Friday, Chris Tucker
I treat the streets like my big brother
ATL, barbecue sauce in my fingernail
We gon set it off to the right, to the left
And I’ma rep this state till I run out of breath, yeah!
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
678, 404, bed made
My girl hair lay, now she looking skraight
Food stamps back, ain’t no fast food today
Tryna get eat, need a home-cooked steak
Rice with the beans, greens falling off the plate
Said I was born in Georgia, grandma spoil ya
Where the Falcons never win but they loyal
Everybody banging with a whole different gang
But we still together, gotta make it through the rain
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
Hardball baby, we ball (?)
678, rent due, Section 8
First you got respect, get from my pay
School shoes never dirty, momma didn’t play
Smoke a blunt at the bus stop, bitch always late
Skipping class, in the hallway, catching the play
I’m tryna make it to the top, I ain’t got time to wait
Said I’m tryna make it, tryna make it for my folk
Gotta stay down, keep my business on the low
Can’t be falling off, I can’t be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain’t got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
A-T-L-A-N-T-A
678, 404, bed made
Put your hands up if you from Savannah
Put your hands up if you from Atlanta
Put your lighters up if you from Augusta
Hand round your girl if you know you love her
Hand round your man if you know you love him
Salute to Macon and I fuck with Columbus
229 showing love to Albany
I’m from the Peach State, I ain’t stunting on Applebee’s
Tea
