Текст песни Quit Hatin' the South (Charlie Wilson) с переводом

Uh! It’s really goin down in the South bitch!

Yeah nigga! We know hip-hop and rap and all that shit started in the

Muthafuckin East

Knalmsayin? Then it went to the West coast and they did it a little bit better

Knalmsayin? But now it’s our time to shine down here NIGGA!

Knalmsayin? So since y’alll niggas keep sayin we ain’t real hip-hop down here

We don’t wanna be down with you bitch ass niggas!

So y’all stay up there with that BULLshit!

This country rap tunes down here nigga!

Young Pimp! Young Bun! Underground Kingz!

All the O.G.'s that’s recognizing the real, I got love for y’all

But all you bitch ass niggas talkin down in ya records, you can eat a DICK!

Hold up!

+ (Pimp C)

Pushin cocaine, syrup and pounds of weed (pounds of weed pussy nigga)

Steady stayin on the grind (steady grinding, stay in the studio nigga)

Pussy nigga can’t say he ain’t hating me (I know you hating me bitch. hold up)

Because if you did, then you wouldn’t be lying (hold up)

But how in the hell am I supposed to respect the man? (if it ain’t respected,

it ain’t respected)

That talk down on every song (I hear you talkin down nigga!)

You steady actin like a bitch, you steady cryin your eyes out (stop crying

bitch!)

Say my name pussy nigga, we can get the shit on. on.

Ooooooooh yeah! (Knalmtalkinbout?)

Quit hatin the South… (baby)

We gettin paper in the South… (gettin money)

Quit hatin the South… (baby)

Quit hatin the South…

Well it’s been a long time, my nigga, I shouldn’t have left you (I shouldn’t

have left)

With some real trill shit to go left to

Gotta lot of respect fool (yeah), for the ones before me

But when my time came they act like they ain’t know me

I’ve been down with rap music since Cold Crush and Melle (Melle)

Before MTV put Run-D.M.C. on the tele (tele)

Back when Whodini tried to tell ya about ya friends

Nigga I was giving rap all my time and my ends

Bought damn near every record the muthafucka dropped

West coast gangsta music, East coast hip-hop

Now it’s our time to shine and the tables is turned

Them muthafuckas aggravated cause we gettin some burn

«There's no room for everybody, just a few niggas is swole» (why is that?)

Proabably cause they favorite rappers ain’t in control

But just let go of the past cause it’s hurtin your hands

And pass it over to the next generation of fans

And quit hatin the South

Quit hatin the South… (baby)

We gettin paper in the South… (gettin money)

Quit hatin the South… (baby)

Quit hatin the South…

I’m blastin off on you hoes like NASA

You double standards and hypocrisy, remind me of Massa

We ain’t good enough to eat at ya table but when ya dick get hard

You wanna run up in our broads

I from the ghetto but I’m still clockin figures

Bitch. ho. cocksuckin nigga

And that goes for all you visitors too

If you don’t like it down here, get the fuck on fool!

They say you can’t rap and they questioning our intellect

Friendly ass niggas jumpin bad on the internet

Ain’t nobody typing that much, can’t be a danger

Catch you in person, bitch I’ll break yo' fingers!

It’s some trash in the South but I promise you

From the East to the West, some of y’all garbage too

As long as the beat knock and the lyrics hot, son

I can give a rat’s ass where a rapper is from

I remember N.W.A. and PE

Had me feelin like a rapper was the thing to be

You can’t fuck with Willie D, UGK either

Disrepsecting the code, jealous muthafuckas need to

Quit hatin the South… (baby)

We gettin paper in the South… (gettin money)

To all the radio, T.V., and even the presses

Been hatin on the Sizz-outh like we ain’t ready

Y’all think we came here to play, say man we came in the stay

Y’all shoulda listened to Andre, bitch we got somethin to say

And all you washed up rappers, you ain’t what it’s about

I see y’all tryna rap like us and puttin grills in ya mouth

Y’all buy the beat, buy the beat, like y’all bouncin and twerkn

But ho we know what’s goin on and bitch that bullshit ain’t workin

I’mma O.G. Rock Balll, write my name up on the wall

Fuck yo' bitch and hit the switch and put my dick up in her jaw

(I'm Sweet) Jones, fuck a clone, legend on the microphone

Player’s choice, silky voice, keep yo' bitch’s pussy moist

I bump that Screw, that’s how I do, sippin drank, byzantine link

In Benz, big blue lens, knock this bitch and fuck with her friend

Candy car, exquisite mouth, bought the ranch man fuck the house

And y’all still gotta buy y’al dope from us so what the fuck you bitch

Niggas talkin 'bout?

All you ole sensitive ass niggas! Knalmtalkinbout?

Y’all niggas on y’all period up there BITCH!

Knalmtalkinbout? Y’all hide behind them e-mail addresses

Sending that bullshit through the air!

Bitch! Say my name bitch, I’mma come to ya house!

Fuck how you feel, country rap tunes NIGGA!

They put all y’all records on one side of the store

And put all the country rap music on the other side of the store

And see who sell out first… bitch ass nigga!

It’s ya own fault ya shit ain’t sellin!

You reap what you sew!

Fuck you in ya pussy!

Keep talkin that shit, them young gladiators go come get you too patna!

Already, UGK for life, fuck how you feel about it bitch!

Young Pimp