[Bubba Sparxxx]
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I drop the verses y'all don't deliver
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Take the chances y'all won't consider
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Got a loyal broad named Betty who
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know what to do with that chrome I give her
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I'm on the shitter
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thinkin bout my bank account and how to make it bigger
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Then I grab the tool and take your jewels
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and I'ma watch this blew the same as Jigga's
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It ain't the liquor I'm really sick, smokin Shwag eatin Crystal chicks
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On a rollercoaster with Bo and Kosha
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Can't even fuck witch'all pencil dicks
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Ain't this some shit?
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Every time we step inside the club y'all tryna guess
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which one of us gon' snatch your bitch
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and leave you strokin all by yourself
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Understand this Bubba Sparxxx, S-P-A-R-triple X
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I sprinkle soul in your pussy hole
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and put some coal on your nipple and neck
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Tell your man, if he flex it's gettin drastic, legend has it
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I know this mob spell G-A and with no delay they'll let him have it
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It's just a habit, reppin Athens and LaGrange, it's in my veins
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I'm mixin Beam with Coke and (?), and every time it's still just the same
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I tend to aim towards spittin thangs, it's classical so masterful
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When it comes to this here make the shit clear
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Heard to y'all comes natural
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[Chorus]
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We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck
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Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it's bumpin turn it up
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We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold
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Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y'all settlin for dough
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Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs
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Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I'm done
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We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep that floss on they toes
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When these broads start some lickin, we just might end up with yours
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[Kosha]
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Step in the club it's on
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Nevertheless gonna find the somebody I could sip on
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A seat with a view in the V.I.P., and got two tight things to grip on
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A bag of trees to put my lip on - gotta cut it, roll it, light it, pass
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And me and Bubba gettin crunk in the club
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with a tape full of Bud in a champagne glass
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Puttin it down for the B.C., in the backwoods where we be
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Better call a producer when you see me
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and get your ass right back in the GT
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Y'all lame boys, hangin up lookin just for a name boy
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Goin upsize with the Gameboy
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Witcho' mind right go out lookin for a cane boy, it's a shame boy
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You the main one tryna stall right, sold the broads out the game boy
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I beat 'em down like chop chop chop
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Yessuh, cut 'em up and leave 'em alone
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On my cell phone they callin, talkin 'bout "Kosha baby, call me"
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Leave your name and your number at the sound of the beep
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and I'll get back witcha shawty
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Most hated by baby daddies for breakin up happy homes
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When the men is on and she don't say no then that mean she wanna bone
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So partna don't get me wrong, I'm just bein Kosha
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That Southern playa with a stroke that keep 'em wet like a ocean
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Yessuh, me and Bubba get rowdy (rowdy)
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And me and Bubba get bout it (bout it)
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We are violators we annihilate you, no ifs ands buts about it
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The air up here stay cloudy, I originate in shotcallin
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We stay up in the club y'all look at us
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and say, "Damn, them boys be ballin"
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[Chorus]
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[Bo Hagin]
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Whassup fuck nigga, man you know who you is (you know)
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You the ones be payin hoes and buyin them gifts (trick ass)
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You mad when you find out some other niggaz get it
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Ain't payin no bills just stayin real and still be hittin it
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I'm a old school playa I just pay for her dinner
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Maybe buy a little liquor - I spend some talk in the mirror
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This the playa from the soul; love to gang up on hoes
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I'm tryna let this pimp shit go cause I don't even like it no mo'
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See these niggaz that I hang with they just run through these skanks
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Talk about 'em over dinner, pass women like dank
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[Interlude: Bubba]
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Mmm-hmm, and I'ma put twenty-five
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on the them ol' fire ass Mercedes Rolls
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that don't never come 'round no mo' that shit right dere
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Country-ass Bubba Sparxxx, ain't no fuckin around wit G.O. again
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That put me in this backwoods committee
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My ace Kosha, Bo Hagin, west central Georgia's finest
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Man Bo, go on snap again
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[Bo Hagin] |