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Nappy Roots - Aw Naw lyrics
Yo, ha ha Nappy Roots
 Awnaw
 Awnaw, hell naw, boy
 Man, y'all done up and done it
 Awnaw, hell naw, boy
 Y'all done up and done it
 Awnaw, hell naw, boy
 Man, y'all done up and done it
 Ah, y'all done up and done it
 Man, y'all done up and done it
 My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook
 You hear me flippin' through my pages out my favorite notebook
 The microphone was in the closet, what? No headphones, we lost it
 Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin' over the faucets
 No AC, Tez'll break a sweat just tryin' to make beats
 E-Dubz was being a hustler, hey man
 Always flirtin' with all his customers and flat broke
 Nappy smokin' blacks out on the back porch
 I'm thinkin' I got everything a country boy could ask for
 Now, what we do to get here? Say dat boy
 Lay it down and bring it to ya raw, say dat boy
 Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for
 Hated for the cussin' but the hatred, it made us cuss more
 Held on but it was hard, stepped up, took charge
 Ran through what we scared of but what was we afraid for?
 Look at what we made of, hard times done made us
 Being here is alright but must believe we want more
 Them country boys on the rise
 With them big fat wheels on the side
 Peep them vertical grills on the ride
 And aww
 Them country boys
 (Awnaw, hell naw, man, y'all done up and done it)
 With them big fat wheels
 (Awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all done up and done it)
 Peep the vertical grills
 (Awnaw, hell naw, boy, man, y'all done up and done it)
 And aww
 (Y'all done up and done it, man, y'all done up and done it)
 My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that buddha to that toota-file
 Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
 Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokesNappy Roots - Aw Naw - http://motolyrics.com/nappy-roots/aw-naw-lyrics.html
 Skullied on that front po'ch, plus you know they got 'dro
 Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill
 Interstate 65 headed down that Cashville
 Glass filled to the tippy-top, back-seat Benz
 Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints
 A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang
 Jimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary Jane
 A long time, a gravel road to cash and fame and sold my soul
 To Hell and back and back and forth with same jeans and nappy 'fro
 I might, hop off the Harley, smoke mine like Bob Marley
 Block parties with shawties, wallin' like they swallowin' Bacardi
 Them butter skin, Prophit gutter like kin
 Understand you 'bout to lose ya life fuckin' with them
 Them country boys on the rise
 With them big fat wheels on the side
 Peep the vertical grills on the ride
 And aww
 Them country boys
 (Awnaw, hell naw, man, y'all done up and done it)
 With them big fat wheels
 (Awnaw, hell naw, boy, y'all done up and done it)
 Peep the vertical grills
 (Awnaw, hell naw, boy, man, y'all done up and done it)
 And aww
 (Y'all done up and done it, man, y'all done up and done it)
 Them country boys
 With them big fat wheels
 Peep the vertical grills
 And aww
 Them country boys
 With them big fat wheels
 Peep the vertical grills
 And aww
 Them country boys on the rise
 With them big fat wheels on the side
 Peep the vertical grills on the ride
 And aww
 Them country boys
 With them big fat wheels
 Peep the vertical grills
 And aww
















