Rap Nigga

[Verse 1: Big Sant]

I rap nigga

And I ain't talking about gift giving

I'm talking about living the gift of spitting

Riddle my competition with ammunition no pistol could emit

Still enough to leave 'em missing

I'm suggesting that you listen, closely, most folks is phoney

Greet you like the homie and later act like you don't know me

Throw your name in the middle like Monie over money

Think it's funny 'til you find yourself crashing over dummies

They asking for me to spit, I tell them niggas to rap

Night of the Living Dead I'm existing off naps

I don't bicker with bitches or bitch ass niggas in fact

Wanna hang in Mississippi I can give you some slack

Kicking chest from under other rap niggas you wack

I'll lay my game flat you can have your spot back

Caught that ass slipping now I'm swimming in your misses

Like I'm white water rafting, coming up for air gasping

She suck it like a vaccuum, I ain't even ask for it

I keep her at the bottom like my Mac dashboard

Wanna keep your baby momma better Honda Passport it

To the closest ATM, this is real life extortion

With real life results for trill minds of course

Dead conversation, and pile up the corpse

But I'm miles away from Davis Street

That's where I cooked up the first batch of bad luck for any that challenge me

Gap tooth, fat nigga, rap like an athlete

Hogging up lanes cause there ain't no passing me

For real, say the wrong thing and get slapped

Who said niggas from the south can't rap?

Bitch

[Verse 2: King Mez]

Giving them words about the south we make them pay attention

Went from hearing about them now and then to everyday they mention

Yeah

And how these record labels trade positions

Moving they offices so they closer to the Mason Dixon

How that happen? All the credit from rapping

Supposed to go to the nigga with the northern accent and the Yankees jacket

But nigga see now, try to front and you senile

Better believe we got the key now, for real

I'm on stage and a nigga light up, on instrumentals black out

Opening any shows can make your headliner back out

On celebrating achievements later talking with Rap 'bout

I'll only floss a little, I won't be pulling no plaque out

Cause lil' niggas in my city often hold the mac out

Teach them 'bout onomatopoeia they can tell you blackat!

Blackat! Blackat! Blackat! Now that that's out

Is money worthless with no purpose, just service so backout

Aye y'all be talking 'bout somebody changing

I put money up, I leave the game from the door I came in

Too many rap niggas lame so I speak in layman's

I speak my hieroglyphics, no one to decipher my paintings

So what's the point of me aiming?

Yeah

You rappers praying, say "Amen"

And thank God for existing

In that ignorant lane that I be letting you stay in

For real

[Verse 3: Tito Lopez]

My real rap niggas know what this is

Down south nigga

Still influenced by the Nas, Biggies and Kiss's

Vicious on the mic, that's an understatement

Cause I do on accident when you niggas would call flagrant

That mean I hit the hardest bitch and I ain't even trying

Ain't even lying, niggas hate me, they even crying

Like how the hell he get a record deal? He ain't had no buzz

Don't worry 'bout it ho that's what Lo' does

Been 10 years since you heard a motherfucker this nasty

Bitches be catching orgasms just from walking past me

They tricks, just like every ho up in the hood

Taking dicks, and I ain't talking no sporting goods

I'd be rich, if I did what all these niggas is doing

But history I'm pursing so miss me with all that lame shit

Danger from the start, got anger in my heart

Switchblade make ya bitch-made nigga play your part

It's southside 'til I die, that's a part of me

Car bomb flow, I know they wish they never started me

Gassed up in that Nav truck needing fast bucks

Got a lot but need a little mo' like an old Fab cut

Have but one job, represent the mob

G-P-T, flex and get your ass robbed

Now tell the truth, you ain't seen a nigga aspire

A bad liar, swell up your jaw, Quagmire

I pass by ya, three tires and a donut

My backside dipping like so what

Never let me slip cause if I slip then I'm slipping

But when I get on this mic you niggas know I'm straight tripping

Ripping

And I'm not just a rapper, I'm really just starting

I wear many hats like Cole on Martin

If you see me, know I got them underdogs with me

And I'm steady screaming Mississippi

Tito Lopez

[Verse 4: Phonte]

I'm giving niggas a crash course

On how to take it back to the asphalt

We the task force, ready to blast off

And eat a niggas face like Pac Man on bath salt

Another plane another stamp in the passport

Another marble mouth nigga with a glass jaw

I say listen up, Hip Hop been in the south

Nigga loosen up the straps on your Jansport

And let 'em know what I stand for

Raw Carolina niggas spit butane

Tigallo sing a hook like Lou Rawls

Turn around and kick fly shit like Liu Kang

If they ain't got a budget I ain't budging

Get your paper cousin, maybe we can do thangs

I spit game for them niggas that's a slave to the rhythm

And slave to they bills dawg, two chains

Riding 'round and I'm getting it

Carolina bound and I'm living it

So now you might wanna gather round your constituents

Play along, say the wrong thang get slapped

Who said niggas from the south can't rap

Nigga