Storm Of The South

(album: Freestyle 102: No Pens Or Pads - 2013)

[Intro:]
Come on, come on, come on hah!
It's some New Orleans, H Town shit right here
I'm coming down, I'm coming down
You hearin? I'm coming down
My nigga Trae Tha Truth, he the truth
Halla at me

[Verse 1:]
Who the fuck say the south ain't got no lyricist bitch
I'm first on your ass, you can tell by the way that I play with this verse
Can show you bitches who trash, them so lame mean
I never be less than this
Nigga I been paying dues, I've been in these streets
But I regrouped, picked up my pen and pad
Cause that work bring too much shit
I gave up a running ghetto where they blew up bread
More liquor take off half your head
Now learn that fuckin with cheese on the pocket
I know it's real cause they ass is dead
That's why they don't look trash
The truth I fuck with the block like I fuck with the booth
I'm sick with it
Take a walk outside and you can get a good look
How I fucked up the crew Cadillac
Nigga ass so don't know how to act
Talk to the booth to the beam of the back
Tryina watch out for these haters, it's never good
But they guessin the stakes
These kids don't know bout nothing
I'm 25 and dem the auntie
And I learned how to keep my mouth closed
Roach motherfucker never know me
So me, if you really wanna be about it
Fuck up and your people gonn read about it
This shit I'm all for real,
90% of these niggas they bout it
Really I doubt it, so motherfucker know my name
Watch them Maine
Just know we could peek it, it might just leave a stain

[Verse 2:]
Chyeah, yea this still Young Maine for president
I'd still repaint the White House black if it was my residence
I remember back when I couldn't even count bars
Now I'm looking in the garage, I'm counting cars
Switching whips, got these niggas with the screw faces
I travel every day, I'm waking up in new places
I'm tellin niggas on top, pass the patron
Got brasilian bitches loving me in Boca Raton
See I'm a real nigga, I still keep a tommy on my side nigga
Minus the hale figure yea
I've been a g since my younger days
Kept a cold heart, in the midst of the summer days
Now listen, you'll prolly catch me with Weezy
Dizzy, a hot spitter
You fucking with us should end up in a hospital
And I see you, yap see I see you
See real recognize real and I don't see you.

[Outro:]
Wussup Alexis? Ridin like a Lexus
That bitch show affection, make a nigga breakfast
Don't aks no questions, save your suggestions
Let's hit the highway ahead over the Texas
'Cause they got them things for the low
I heard them boys got them things for the loo
I heard them boys got them things for the loo