Letra Aw naw Nappy Roots

Aw naw

Yeah, haha
Nappy
Roots
Awwnaw! [
Hook]
Awnaw!
Hell naw!
Man
Y'all done up and done it
Awnaw!
Hell naw!
Boy
Y'all done up and done it
Awnaw!
Hell naw!
Boy
Y'all done up and done it
Ah, y'all done up and done it
Man y'all done up and done it [
Fish
Scales]
My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook
You hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebook
The microphone was in the closet (
Whatà?)
No headphones, we lost it
Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucets
No
A
C,
Tez'll break a sweat just tryin to make beats
E-Dubz was being a hustler, (
Heeeyy man!) all play flirtin all his customers, and flat broke
Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po'ch
I'm thinkin
I got everything a country boy could ask for [
Big
V]
Now what we do to get here? (
Say dat boy!!)
Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (
Say dat boy!!)
Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for
Hated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss more
Held on, but it was hard - stepped up, took charge
Ran thru what we scared up, but what was we afraid for?
Look what we made of, heart that what made us
Being here is alright, but
M
U
S
T believe we won't fall!
Them country boys on the rise!
With them big fat wheels on the side!
Peep them vertical grills on the ride!
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! [
Repeat
Hook over this part]
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grills
And awwwwwwww! [
Saan/
Skinny
De
Ville]
My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file
Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes
Skullied on that front po'ch, plus you know they got 'dro
Seventy-nine coupe
De
Ville vertical
Caddy grill
Interstate 65 headin down to
Cashville
Glass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat
Benz
Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints
A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang
Jimmy
Crack
Corn, cross the county line with
Mary
Jane
A long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soul
To
Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy 'fro [
R
Prophit]
I might, hop off the
Harley, spoke mine like
Bob
Marley
Not parties with charties, wallin like they swallowin
Bacardi
Them butter-skin,
Prophit gotta like them
Understand you 'bout to lose ya life fuckin with
T
H
E
E
E
M
M!
Them country boys on the rise!
With them big fat wheels on the side!
Peep the vertical grills on the ride!
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww! [
Repeat
Hook over this part]
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grills
And awwwwwwww!
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grills
And awwwwwwww! [
Repeat]
Them country boys on the ride!
With them big fat wheels on the side!
Peep the vertical grills on the ride!
And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!
Them country boys
With them big fat wheels
Peep the vertical grills
And awwwwwwww!