baby d - atl hoe lyrics
a-t, a-t, a-t, a-t, a-t, atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
my n-gg- what you know about the a-t-l-a-n-t-a
ga my n-gg- we swervin’
[incomp] sittin’ on michael jordan blinin’ when the sun be scorchin’
who that be me b-a-b-y d from da b-i-g double o-m-p
i said it before but i’m goin’ to say it again
my n-gg- we too d double e-p, i represent the dirty dirty south
down here lil’ buddy we don’t play no games, i represent the a-t-l
eastside shawty and the westside n-gg-s on da thang
throw your hood up, make your shoulder jump
if ya hatin’ on the “a” then lock ’em in the trunk
ya don’t know who you f-ckin’ with
but i’ll bet we’ll bounce on your motherf-ckin’ -ss like it ain’t sh-t
atl hoe throwin’ up them “a’s”
gangsta walk on the motherf-ckin’ stage
n-gg- watch me bounce on these sucka -ss punks
then f-ck around and got the “a” town started
don’t make me say, “ain’t told you so”
throwin’ bows to the nose sayin’, “yeah hoe”
pastor troy, archie, and big oomp click
add it up young n-gg- that gangsta sh-t
atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
yeah, n-gg- it’s archie
the phatest skinny n-gg- you will ever know
try’in to stop my cheddar flow
holla at my beretta blow
atcha dome and atcha chest
wear your chrome and wear your vest
had your home a bl–dy mess
faked thugs get bless with a slug to the chest
arch to the “i” to the “e”
p-ssin’ baby d beside me
eastside boyz is right behind me
“a” town b-tch n-gg- you try’in to find me
simpson road down to godbe
these are the places that i be
these are the faces that i see
i die for the city, don’t play by me
you can try me if you wanna archie be brin’in drama
pistol carriers bury ya, make you say, “we the bomb ya”
death before dishonor, put that on my mama
the phat boy representer, ’til i’m a goner, yeah, n-gg-
atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
pistol pistol my pistol banana fanna atlanta
bombin; on the b-tch, the young the filthy rich
the six i use to drive was live but under rated
i cut off the top and had the v12 gold plated
but some n-gg-s hated, they do not hated in public
them p-ssy -ss n-gg-s gon’ make me jump to my bucket
the brown one with the three rims
i whoop up on your block, n-gg- your chance slim
do you remember tim they call him, “poor timmy”
i f-ck his p-ssy over his hammy with a fifty rimmy
think you are n-gg- friendly ’cause i’m the pastor
b-tch, i ain’t creflow, this atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
atl hoe
we ready
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