Georgia

«Georgia» «Georgia!»
«Georgia» «Georgia!»
We on the grind in («Georgia!»)
All the time…
It ain’t nothin' on my mind but («Georgia»)
We ain’t playin' witcha
Country names, country slang, fiends at the liquor sto'
Black cruisin', craps shootin', 50 on the 10 to 4
Overcast, the forecast, shows clouds from plenty dro
And we read for war in the state of («Georgia»)
YEAH! Dirty words, dirty birds, it’s MEAN in the Dirty South
If you ever disrespect it, then we’ll CLEAN out ya dirty mouth
Bulldogs clockin, these lookout boys is hawkin'
You gotta be brave in the state of («Georgia»)
I got five Georgia homes, where I rest my Georgia bones
Come anywhere on my land, and I’ll aim at ya Georgia Dome
If you get into an altercation, just hop on ya mobile phone
And tell somebody you need HELP in the middle of («Georgia»)
We some +ATL Thrashers+, scope ya punk and then smash ya
We’ll come through ya hood worse than a tsunami disaster
Don’t know who they gonna get, or who them robbers gonna hit
That’s why I keep my +Georgia Tech+ in the state of («Georgia»)
We on the grind in («Georgia!»)
All the time…
It ain’t nothin' on my mind but («Georgia»)
We ain’t playin' witcha
I’m from the home of neckbones, black eyed peas, turnip, and collard greens
We the children of the corn, dirtier than Bob Marley’s PeePee
GA, the Peach State, where we stay
My small city is called Albany («Georgia»)
(Hahaha) Pecan Country, like catfish wit' grits
Candy yams and chitllins', Grandma’s home made baked biscuits
The land of classical Caprices and Impalas, and super sports
Ingredients in this peach cobbler called («Georgia»)
I love the women out in LA and the shoppin' stores in NEW YORK!
The beaches in M.I.A.; But ain’t nothin' like that GA, red clay
Look on ya map, we right above Florida, Next to 'Bama
Under that Carolina to Tennessee, you’ll see («Georgia»)
Where Gladys Knight took the «Midnight Train», The birthplace of Martin Luther
King
Where ass so plump and hips are thick, where 'Llac trucks sittin' on 26s
Know where you goin' or you’ll get lost, Found in these plumb trees in the south
Choppers’ll tomahawk your top, down here in («Georgia»)
We on the grind in («Georgia!»)
All the time…
It ain’t nothin' on my mind but («Georgia»)
We ain’t playin' witcha
Now I was born in the 'Bany on the bottom of the map; with a wet paint
Chip chin on Pirellis, And chrome on the chevy’s, When I’m choppin' in the trap
Country as hell, they some warriors, tote somethin' spray somethin'
The same shape as Florida; Lookin' for me boy
You’ll find me down in Dougherty County in a small city called Albany («Georgia»
Where they used to call us some Bamas, and now they
Jockin the grammar; Watch your mouth unless you offer some manner
But ya hustlers wasn’t on ever corner like the Waffle House in Atlanta
R.I.P Camoflauge out in Savannah («Georgia»)
Now you might come from vacation, leave on probation, Home of the strip club
Known for the thick girls, Where the tricks put tips in the tip cup
For the thick chick in the thong wit the big butt, Wanna get love
Won’t be cheap, long money like Peachtree
Man she take it off like Freaknik down here in («Georgia»)
When you see them confederate flags, you know what is
Yo folks picked cotton here, that’s why we call it the field
I got a Chevrolet on twenty — sixes; I’m from GA, GA («Georgia»)
We on the grind in («Georgia!»)
All the time…
It ain’t nothin' on my mind but («Georgia»)
We ain’t playin' witcha
«Georgia» «Georgia!»
«Georgia» «Georgia!»
«Georgia!!!»