SouthSide Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

31 in this bitch, yuh, yuh

It's 31 and in this bitch

Niggas knowin' I don't play about my brothers

You run up, I'ma trip

Just out a new Draco, I can't wait to hit you in your lip

And you know I'm really bout my cheese, but I don't fuck with rats

Any nigga try to take it from me, I'ma put him in a pack

Break him down and put him in the woods

And smoke him like some Runtz

I ain't worried bout these niggas

Yeah, these niggas, sweet like Honey Buns

If you don't know bout 31

Then you should know that we got a lot of guns

You can run, but you can't hide

Yeah, them bullets right in front of you

Bow, bow, bow

You gon' hear that shit before you die

In a fancy striker

Got the tints, the doors are suicide

When I smoke that opp pack, man, I swear I get high out my mind

All my diamonds hit

Yeah, these bitches peep, & lose they mind

Bitch, I'm booted in this bitch

You know, I'm goin' crazy

If you try to run up on me, I'ma shoot you & your lady

Yeah, I'm on the Nawf

But these niggas know that jersey, made me

Yeah that nigga actin' tough

I'ma go and turn this his ass to gravy

Really used to sleep up on the floor

It wasn't no headboard, pussy soaker

She gon' ride my dick just like a surfboard

Yeah, I'm havin' money

But I'm knowin' I can get more

Young niggas stackin' up my coins just like Connect Four

Yeah, niggas think it's sweet

We give them RedRum

Tryna beef about a bitch

We gon' cut your fuckin' head off

Since you thinkin' with your dick

We gon' get your fuckin' head gone

Bitch, we blitz that pussy shit

Lil' nigga, you know you dead wrong (yeah)

Bitch, you knowin' that I really slang that Iron

Big Camden baby,Yeah, I'm on the Nawf, but I rep Southside

You better not come around my section

Tryna flex with your Ice

Them niggas really snatch your shit

And make your chain go worldwide

Yeah, bitch, I know you play about the gang

You know we got them cutters

Really totin' sticks, you run up

Then you finna lose your brother

He swear he havin' bags

But word on the street, that nigga is a runner

Don't play with my name

I got them sticks and, bitch, I'm from the gutter

Yeah, yeah

So don't you play with the clique

Don't do no arguing round this bitch

I got a hundred round stick

Got a grown ass lady

Suckin' all on my dick

Got them VVs ain't no SI's

Flooded all of my wrist

Bitch, I'm posted with the real

Ain't no fakin' my clique

This a real 17

Ain't no fakin' my clip

Talkin' crazy about the gang

That's how a nigga die quick

I can't beef with them lil' niggas

I know they gon' write it

Ridin' with my toolie

Yeah, my fully bouncin', gettin' groovy

Shooting clips just like a movie

Your bitch a groupie

Yeah, she throwin' cooch

She say, you ain't havin' motion

You ain't buyin' flowers in a minute

Bitch, I pull up with that zot

she bend it over

And let me in it

Bitch, I'm bout my paper

I'm bout my cheddar

Yeah, them Benjamins

No, I don't trust that hoe

But she do eat dick like some cinnamon

You better not leave your hoe around

Luh Heem, cause he gon' go and drill her in

My ex hoe done left me

I been goin' crazy ever since