South Atlanta (Where We Hang At)

Lyrics

[Intro] Welcome to my world nigga South Atlanta Welcome to the southside And the recession Hard times keep approaching Real hustlers only know where to go out and get it [Hook: Scrilla Man] Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at [Verse 1: T-Rock] Straight out the trenches of South Atlanta where it's no pity When niggas either get rich or die like that nigga 50 They said I would fail but I'm back to reclaim the victory Real niggas respect my G and they bitches gotta be with me (It's still what?) It's still contact, Kush packs in Conneaut We like them being numb Kats Yo army don't want no combat These niggas say they robbin' and stealing like this civilian But they won't bust a grape when it's time to commit a killing I'm feeling The fakeness inside that you try concealing Quit grilling And huffin' and puffin' you ain't no villain I'm drilling This trap with the realest shit ever smokin' So feel it The only one in the tribe who be holdin' [Hook: Scrilla Man] Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at [Verse 2: T-Rock] I was raised as a rider Where everybody treacherous, secs to clips, if a nigga try to get next to this I been knockin' out the competition, then posing to break through this They comin' in second like Exodus This quest for chess got me possessed like the exorcist To get in and get paper, tryna get rich and live greater Do what I can to see haters, puffin on spinach and weed vapor Y'all niggas and bitches so ridiculous Who is the wickedest nigga live before we kick in this Bustin' bleachery lyrics over a beat that's sigging, devilish I rap real 'cause I'm militant I was raised in the city of a Atlanta if I die then you bury me with 4 Glocks to hell Only one that would grind and don't forget the words just incase I gotta battle with the warlocks in Hell Swore not to fail No matter what I'm makin I will not lose with the Glock fused I'm a rebel Armed with the metal Nigga'd play the baseball bats and a shovel on a whole 'nother level And war with the Devil Seems to me the fake niggas stay on top and real niggas get stressed Back against the wall, dirty anna on my leg, big tests for big checks and Glocks with big tecs FUCK WIT IT! Stressed out while the grind confusing this Making me crazed got a mind with screws in it I'm putting up with the presence of every single direction in life, still getting high as a fool in this Paradox a game, lots of pain Feelin' like I got less to lose, and a lot to gain Still chewed up, bring down rocks and rain Focused up so strong enough to lock the brain Or maintain Like a nigga supposed to, I got to the environment that I've been exposed to And ever since your friends turned PO to smoke you Like you was the enemy and niggas never did know you Truth hurts when I spit that crack Supply the hood 'cause Imma get that back I ain't really have a choice but to flip that pack I'll never go broke but to get that ??? back [Hook: Scrilla Man] Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at Scope that, laid back You know where we hang at Chrome that Maybach You know where the bang at Red Beam, black mag You know where the fame at You know who my dame (What!?) I said you know where we hang at