CHORUS:
(Nelly:)
It s a Midwest thang y all
And ain t got a clue
(Ain t got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs
On that motherf***er too
It s a Midwest Swang y all
Ain t gotta trip
(Ain t gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
(Ay
ay
ay
ay
ay)
Cause we do big thangs
On the motherf***in hip
What you think
we live on a farm?
Nigga
be for real
We got Benz s
Rovers and Jag s
Hummer s and Deville s
Got a green S Class
Ain t broke the do seal
Sh*t ain t been the same
Since I signed Fo Reel
This sh*t got ill
when I hit 4 mil
Five and countin
dirty six at will
Did seven on the slide
8 worldwide
I ll be on my third Bentley
By the time I m at 9
I hear em cryin
You gon sell out
Ya damn right
I done sold out before
And re-caught the same night
Straight hopped the next flight
Too Icey for sunlight
Dunkin without Sprite
Yeah you heard me dirty
I m from the Show-Me State
Show me seven I ll show you eight
Karats in one bling
Heavily starched jeans
Representin St. Louis
Everytime I breathe
In the city I touch down
And I bob and weave
ay

Repeat chorus

(Murphy Lee:)
I sport my beeper on my boots
That s why I be a buzz when I kick
Maybe it s on my lips
It s chaos when I spit
Quarter man
quarter
Schoolboy
half Lunatic
Quarter rubber
quarter d*ck
Other half in yo sh*t
Keep a quarter of some sh*t
I m the Pookey of the backyard
All colors and all types like a junkyard
High young boy with high young ways
Cause I connect three blunts
And be high for three days
You can tell by the way I walk
I ain t from round hurr (here)
Probably couldn t tell cause
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)
To the half in them Airforce 1 s
Give me two purr (pair) ugh
I m from the Lou and
What I do is a Lou thang
One rapper
two rings
And three chains

(Kyjuan:)
Nothing but some ole country boys
That ride V12 horses
Saddle up and put
Spurs on my Airforce s
Back porches made for
Hide and go seek
We got space out here
We can ride and cheif
Ain t gotta worry bout
Nobody approachin us
By the time they catchin up
We smoked it up
And my eyes be red
My lips a lil dark
St. Louis sportin the Rams
Cards and lil Arch
My dirty s love to spark
And love to sparkle
Love homies Vokal coats
With matchin car do s (doors)
We racin down sneakers
See how fast a car go
Granny be like "Ay
ya ya"
Like Ricky Ricardo
I know you wanna know
Why we do what we do
You cats ain t got a clue
Why the Cutlass blue
Brand new 22 s on new UP s
With one
two
three
Four
five TV s

Repeat chorus

(Big Lee A.K.A. Ali:)
I m sittin on the front porch
Writin a hood rhyme
Waitin on my connect
To deliver that good line
Wish I would find
One seed in my weed
Sticks and sh*t
If I do somebody bleed
Pull right here
Eight pounds of Chinamen
Two stank b****es
Some blunts and Heineken
Hidin in the back with the po po
Kicked in my do do
Man they some ho hooo s
They put the gun to my earr
You know the Lord don t fear
Nann nigga
nann h*e
Let s keep that bullsh*t clearr
They had me face
Down in the skreet (street)
Errbody (everybody)
Watchin
thinkin I mma pull the heat
And leave the D-tects with
A leak in the skreet (street)
And that
pussy as* nigga
That set me up my peeps
Gon give it to this nigga like NYPD
Beat the K
f*** coke
Now I m back on my
Granny poche (porch) hustlin

Repeat chorus to fade

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