St.Lunatics - Midwest Swing Lyrics
Chorus - Nelly]It's a Midwest thang y'allAnd ain't got a clue (Ain't got a clue)Why my Cutlass blueAnd I got them thangs on that mother*****er tooIt's a Midwest Swang y'allAin't gotta trip (Ain't gotta trip)While we swing and dip (Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay)Cuz we do big thangsOn the mother*****in' hip[Verse 1 - Nelly]What you think, we live on a farm? Nigga, be for realWe got Benz's, Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville'sGot a green S Class, ain't broke the do' sealShit ain't been the same since I signed Fo' ReelThis shit got ill, when I hit 4 milFive and countin', dirty six at willDid seven on the slide, 8 worldwideI'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9I hear'em cryin', "You gon' sell out"Ya damn right, I done sold out beforeAnd re-caught the same nightStraight hopped the next flightToo Icey for sunlightDunkin' without Sprite, yea you heard me dirtyI'm from the Show-Me StateShow me seven I'll show you eightKarats in one bling, heavily starched jeansRepresentin' St. Louis everytime I breatheIn the city I touch down, and I bob and weave, ay[Chorus][Verse 2 - Murphy Lee]I sport my beeper on my bootsThat's why I be a buzz when I kickMaybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spitQuarter man, quarter schoolboy, half LunaticQuarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' shitKeep a quarter of some sheeeiitI'm the Pookey of the backyardAll colors and all types like a junkyardHigh young boy with high young waysCuz I connect three blunts and be high for three daysYou can tell by the way I walk I ain't from 'round hurr (here)Probably couldn't tell cuz I ain't walkin' nowhurr (nowhere)I got a old-school Cutlass, with a hole in the urr (air)TV's urrwhurr (everywhere) wood grain to sturr (stare)I don't curr (care), hell naw I ain't cuttin' my hurr (hair)10 and a half in the Airforce Ones, give me two purr (pair) ughI'm from the Lou and what I do is a Lou thangOne rapper, two rings and three chains[Verse 3 - Kyjuan]Nothing but some ole country boys that ride V12 horsesSaddle up and put spurs on my Airforce'sBack porches made for hide and go seekWe got space out here, we can ride and cheifAin't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' usBy the time they catchin' up, we smokin' upAnd my eyes be red, my lips a lil' darkSt. Louis sportin' the Rams, Cards and lil' ArchMy dirty's love to spark, and love to sparkleLove homies *Vokal* coats with matchin' cargosWe racin' down Sninker, see how fast a car goGranny be like "Ay, ya ya" like Ricky RicardoI know you wanna know why we do what we doYou cats ain't got a clue why the Cutlass blueBrand new 22's on new UP'sWith one, two, three, four, five TV's[Chorus][Verse 4 [Big Lee A.K.A. Ali)]I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin' a hood rhymeWaitin' on my connect to deliver that good lineWish I would find, one seed in my weedSticks and shit, if I do somebody bleedPull right here, eight pounds of ChinamenTwo stay hittin some blunts and HeinekenHidin' in the back with the po' po'Stickin' my do'do', man they some ho' hooo'sThey put the gun to my earrYou know the law don't fearNann nigga, nann hoe, let's keep that bullshit clearrThey had me face down in the skreet (street)Errbody (everybody) watchin', thinkin' Ima pull the heatAnd leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreet (street)And that - ***** ass nigga that set me up my peepsGon' give it to this nigga like NYPDBeat the K, ***** coke, now I'm back on my granny poche (porch) hustlin'[Chorus til fade out
