Yeah, haha Nappy Roots
  Awwnaw!
    [Hook]
  Awnaw! Hell naw! Man
  Y'all done up and done it
  Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy
  Y'all done up and done it
  Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy
  Y'all done up and done it
  Ah, y'all done up and done it
  Man y'all done up and done it
    [Fish Scales]
  My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook
  You hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebook
  The microphone was in the closet (What?) No headphones, we lost it
  Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucets
  No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin to make beats
  E-Dubz was being a hustler, (Heeeyy man!)
  all play flirtin all his customers, and flat broke
  Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po'ch
  I'm thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for
    [Big V]
  Now what we do to get here? (Say dat boy!!)
  Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (Say dat boy!!)
  Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for
  Hated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss more
  Held on, but it was hard - stepped up, took charge
  Ran thru what we scared up, but what was we afraid for?
  Look what we made of, heart that what made us
  Being here is alright, but MUST believe we won't fall!
    Them country boys on the rise!
  With them big fat wheels on the side!
  Peep them vertical grills on the ride!
  And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!
    [Repeat Hook over this part]
  Them country boys
  With them big fat wheels
  Peep the vertical grills
  And awwwwwwww!
    [Saan/Skinny DeVille]
  My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file
  Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
  Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes
  Skullied on that front po'ch, plus you know they got 'dro
  Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill
  Interstate 65 headin down to Cashville
  Glass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat Benz
  Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints
  A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang
  Jimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary Jane
  A long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soul
  To Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy 'fro
    [R Prophit]
  I might, hop off the Harley, spoke mine like Bob Marley
  Not parties with charties, wallin like they swallowin Bacardi
  Them butter-skin, Prophit gotta like them
  Understand you 'bout to lose ya life fuckin with THEEEMM!
    Them country boys on the rise!
  With them big fat wheels on the side!
  Peep the vertical grills on the ride!
  And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!
    [Repeat Hook over this part]
  Them country boys
  With them big fat wheels
  Peep the vertical grills
  And awwwwwwww!
    Them country boys
  With them big fat wheels
  Peep the vertical grills
  And awwwwwwww!
  [Repeat]
    Them country boys on the ride!
  With them big fat wheels on the side!
  Peep the vertical grills on the ride!
  And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!
  Them country boys
  With them big fat wheels
  Peep the vertical grills
  And awwwwwwww!