Down Heya (in The South) Lyrics - Against Da Grain - Youngbloodz

And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets 

To the two door Capri, crunk out with the beat 

We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab 

Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab 

If 5 on 2, shit its all good, we ride through the hood 

In the Delta 88' with that Georgia license plate These niggas, don't know 

They don't even wanna show no love to a nigga, like me, so I just stay On the grind, stay down for mine tryin' to get mine in daily 

Holla' at me like you know your foe, chiefin' on that green 

Never snort a lot of coke, stayed down with the home team 

Know what I mean, some shit, have a nigga, stressed out 

Make him small fast 

Bout' 175 will quit to open that cannon and woop your ass 

But ya' wait, get a bat face on the one-time while these hoes 

Choose on the Attic Crew, my girl already been chose 

These stankin' bitches get your boy caught up in that fuck shit 

I know they suckin dick, but they thanking the game I spit 

I put they ass in a rap and ride out on them hoes 

Get wit' my slick part now, then hit the studio 

Now see I jumps up, without a doubt 

Not a question being asked as you dash, with no way out 

Through the whirl-wind I spin, intruders, we break em' in 

Atlanta Georgia, we comin' for ya' with 50 men 

In sets of 10, no sippin' gin, we steppin' in its the Attic Crew 

No flaw within, we them Youngbloodz wit' plenty kin 

No ifs, no ands, no buts, no grins 

We after you, so what you do is count to three then click your shoes 

Then out the door, back to your hoe, down on the low 

Straight, toe to toe, 'cause J-Bo is who I be, won't fuck with you 

Don't fuck with me, so can't you see through the enemies 

Where be all you can fuckin' be, stay sucker free 

But first get some nuts before you fuck around and bite the dust 

Now nigga what, so what you got now if you ride out on them cruts, Hook 

And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets 

To the two door Capri, crunk out with the beat 

We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab 

Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab 

And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets 

To the two door Capri, crunk out with the beat 

We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab 

Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab 

A day late and a dolla' short on the cat walk, windin' 

Tryin' to get meat, 22 tryin' to see 23, Shawty, three U double T's 

What it ain't gonna be, what it is over years I been scratchin' 

And scrapin' still ain't came up with nothin' 

Let everybody get they time to shine still waitin' on mine 

In the meantime tryin' to find a loophole 

God knows where the next one, for dead 

Got bust in the neck, nigga cryin', but the grind don't stop 

Like time don't stop, like a nigga who drop 

Casket, cover it up and ride out, ain't got nothin' to be smilin' bout' 

Only bit fake chasers, I'm tryin' to waste 

Gotta keep on stackin', gotta keep on packin', slackin' gonna get me 

Hemmed up, posted up in the store with the blow, don't show no flow 

As long as though, see hit the gas flow 

Gotta play it smart, gotta take it to the heart 

Fuckin' around, gonna get you fucked up, 4:30, the hill, law gone 

Always underestimated, great don't gives a fuck, don't make mistakes 

Shake em' off gonna get it crunk before this thang get too late 

Hold up, wait, my homeboys straight 

Don't make me go upside your head 

Drag your ass across the club, heard what I fuckin' said 

We ain't scared, prepared to take this thang to the streets 

Caprice and Fleetwood ride good Vouges with the beat 

You might not understand a damn thang that I speak 

I'm slizzard as hell, might stomp your punk ass to sleep 

And when this thang get crunk, I pack it up and take it to the lab 

Hit that gentlemens club and grab a couple of hoes off on the ass 

Laugh if you will, thank its funny but it ain't what the fuck you gonna do When they hit you, stick you for your bank 

From the freeze-tag to the Fleetwoods, from the two door to the four door 

Who got the leather, who got the cloth, who got the Vougues 

With all the hoes, who got the gold, who got that grain 

Who got the green, who got the chains, who got the bitch 

I got the Fleetwood, girls most likely to complain 

See somethings can't be explained, how we really do this man 

Hit the lab, make it talk, now you here me once again 

Have you jumpin' and shakin', like you off in that blue flame 

Whats really going on holmes, can you please tell me man 

And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets 

To the two door Capri, crunk out with the beat 

We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab 

Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab 

And thats how we keep it crunk, from the club to the streets 

To the two door Capri, crunk out with the beat 

We shakin' hoes off, cut em' up like a slab 

Then hit the studio and take it back to the lab