Lirik Lagu Midwest Swing - St. Lunatics F/ Nelly
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[Chorus: Nelly]It's a Midwest thang, y'all - and they ain't got a clue(Ain't got a clue) why my Cutlass blueand I got them thangs on that motherfucker tooIt's a Midwest Swang, y'all - and they ain't gotta trip(Ain't gotta trip) while we swing and dip (Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay)Cuz we do big thangs on the motherfuckin' hip
[Nelly]What you think we live on a farm?Nigga be for realWe got Benz's Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville'sGot a green S Class, ain't broke the door sealShit ain't been the same since I signed Fo' ReelThis shit got ill, when I hit 4 millFive and countin', dirty six at willDid seven on the slide, 8 worldwideI'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9I hear 'em cryin, "You gon' sell out" ya damn rightI done sold out before and re-comped the same nightStraight hopped the next flight, too *Icey* for sunlightDunkin without Sprite, yea you heard me dirtyI'm from the Show-Me State, show me seven I'll show you eightKarats in one bling, heavily starched jeansRepresentin St. Louis everytime I breatheIn the city I touch down and I bob and weave, ay
[Chorus]
[Murphy Lee]I sport my beeper on my boots, that's why I be a buzz when I kickMaybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spitQuarter man, quarter schoolboy, half LunaticQuarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' shitKeep a quarter of some sheeeiit, I'm the Pooky of the backyardAll colors and all types like a junkyardHot young boy with hot young waysCause I connect three blunts and be high for three daysYou can tell by the way I walk I ain't from 'round hurr (here)Probably couldn't tell cuz 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) ughI'm from the Lou' and what I do is a Lou' thangOne rapper, two rings and three chains
[Kyjuan]Nothing but some ole country boys that ride V-12 horsesSaddle up and put spurs on my Airforce'sBack porches made for hide and go seekWe got space out hurr, we can ride and chiefAin't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' usBy the time they catchin' up, we smoked it upAnd my eyes be red, my lips a lil' darkThe Lou is more than the Rams, Cards and lil' ArchMy dirty's love to spark, and love to sparkleLove homies *Vokal* coats with matchin' car do's (doors)We racin down Skinker, see how fast our car goGranny be like "Ay-yi-yi" like Ricky RicardoI know you wanna know why we do what we doYou cats ain't got a clue why the Cutlass blueBrand new twenty-two's on new UP'sWith one, two, three, four, five TV's
[Chorus]
[Big Lee A.K.A. Ali]I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin a hood rhymeWaitin on my connect to deliver that good lineWish I would find, one seed in my weedSticks and shit, if I do somebody bleedPull right here, eight pounds of ChinamenTwo stay hittin some blunts and HeinekenHidin in the back with the po' po'kicked in my do'do', man they some ho' hooo'sThey put the gun to my earr, you know the Lord don't fearNann nigga, nann hoe, let's keep that bullshit clearrThey had me face down in the skreetErrbody watchin, thinkin I'ma pull the heatAnd leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreetAnd that - pussy ass nigga that set me up my peepsGon' give it to this nigga like NYPDBeat the K, fuck coke, now I'm back on my granny porch hustlin
[Chorus] - repeat to fade
[Nelly]What you think we live on a farm?Nigga be for realWe got Benz's Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville'sGot a green S Class, ain't broke the door sealShit ain't been the same since I signed Fo' ReelThis shit got ill, when I hit 4 millFive and countin', dirty six at willDid seven on the slide, 8 worldwideI'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9I hear 'em cryin, "You gon' sell out" ya damn rightI done sold out before and re-comped the same nightStraight hopped the next flight, too *Icey* for sunlightDunkin without Sprite, yea you heard me dirtyI'm from the Show-Me State, show me seven I'll show you eightKarats in one bling, heavily starched jeansRepresentin St. Louis everytime I breatheIn the city I touch down and I bob and weave, ay
[Chorus]
[Murphy Lee]I sport my beeper on my boots, that's why I be a buzz when I kickMaybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spitQuarter man, quarter schoolboy, half LunaticQuarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' shitKeep a quarter of some sheeeiit, I'm the Pooky of the backyardAll colors and all types like a junkyardHot young boy with hot young waysCause I connect three blunts and be high for three daysYou can tell by the way I walk I ain't from 'round hurr (here)Probably couldn't tell cuz 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) ughI'm from the Lou' and what I do is a Lou' thangOne rapper, two rings and three chains
[Kyjuan]Nothing but some ole country boys that ride V-12 horsesSaddle up and put spurs on my Airforce'sBack porches made for hide and go seekWe got space out hurr, we can ride and chiefAin't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' usBy the time they catchin' up, we smoked it upAnd my eyes be red, my lips a lil' darkThe Lou is more than the Rams, Cards and lil' ArchMy dirty's love to spark, and love to sparkleLove homies *Vokal* coats with matchin' car do's (doors)We racin down Skinker, see how fast our car goGranny be like "Ay-yi-yi" like Ricky RicardoI know you wanna know why we do what we doYou cats ain't got a clue why the Cutlass blueBrand new twenty-two's on new UP'sWith one, two, three, four, five TV's
[Chorus]
[Big Lee A.K.A. Ali]I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin a hood rhymeWaitin on my connect to deliver that good lineWish I would find, one seed in my weedSticks and shit, if I do somebody bleedPull right here, eight pounds of ChinamenTwo stay hittin some blunts and HeinekenHidin in the back with the po' po'kicked in my do'do', man they some ho' hooo'sThey put the gun to my earr, you know the Lord don't fearNann nigga, nann hoe, let's keep that bullshit clearrThey had me face down in the skreetErrbody watchin, thinkin I'ma pull the heatAnd leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreetAnd that - pussy ass nigga that set me up my peepsGon' give it to this nigga like NYPDBeat the K, fuck coke, now I'm back on my granny porch hustlin
[Chorus] - repeat to fade
