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    7-1-3 / Lyrics

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    "Deep Down South" Lyrics

    7-1-3 feat. Lil' Flip

    Come on, uh...

    [Lil' Ron]
    I'm bout to cause a disaster, like a earthquake
    Eighteen's, got little kids dropping milk shakes
    I smoke and sip eights, poured in one soda
    Treat my girls like dogs, nigga teach em to roll over
    Give em the cold shoulder, if they don't listen
    But they quickly convinced, when they see them rims twisting
    Better pay attention, to that nigga Lil' Reezy
    It takes six dimes in bikinis, just to please me
    Better believe me, its real in the field

    My chain like yellow lights, it make people ill
    In the Porsche switching gears, like a Nascar racer
    And the rocks on my bracelet, got it looking like a glacier
    I'm a clutch player, like Robert Hory
    These cats ain't balling, they telling stories
    But ain't gotta worry, bout H.S.E.
    If I ain't hating on you, then why you hating on me

    [Chorus: Big Shasta]
    We from the deep down South in the city
    In the light, and I be seeing these girls be looking pretty
    That's why, I got to stay on my grind
    So we can be a hundred percent, all the time
    Y'all don't know where we from (where we from)
    Y'all don't know where we been (where we been)

    [Yung Redd]
    Its like one for the money, and two is for them hoes

    Three is for the drank, Four pass me the smoke
    You won't see me riding, in any ole Benz
    Unless its jet black, on twenty inch rims
    I got more Air Force, than the government
    Every color pair, I'm so fly trust me I'm loving it
    I never leave the hoe, with just a single rubber
    And I crawl like Ringling Brothers, hoes love us
    Under the in-fluence, catch me swerving
    Playing in a number six, like Julius Irving
    My watch and my chain, got me coughing and sneezing
    Still a young heathen, as long as I'm breathing
    I pay for a show, turn it out then I'm leaving
    The way the man told us, its flossing season
    This year we got it made, we shining y'all
    Even though we got a due, we still grinding y'all


    [Lil' Flip]
    Who am I, name is Lil' Flip
    And I roll with, two clips
    Just in case, something happen
    While y'all niggas yapping, I'ma be capping
    Rolling with my strap and, pistol packing
    Glock 9's, Tech 9's, even a Mack 10
    I'm not acting, I pack clips so
    Play your roll, and stick to the script
    Before I flip, and empty the clip
    I'm Gladys Night, cause I'm a pimp
    We eating shrimp, and catching planes
    You know I'm great, at catching dames
    And what's your name, where you live
    Will you give some brain, do you got kids
    Cause if you do girl, its okay
    So pass the syrup, fuck the courvassier

    This song was submitted on December 28th, 2013 and last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Roba Music, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes.
    Written by Anthony Sears, Little Roy, Wesley Weston, Young Redd, Estil Hobbs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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