Get On Dis Motorcycle

AH!

Y'all ready ..

Y'all ready ..

Y'all ready ..

One of the illest rhymers that ever came outta Carolina, put this whole shit

on the map

Went back got two states, y'all crammed way to the back

and brought 'em up to the where the rest of 'em at (cause I can do that)

Granddaddy was real strong, daddy was in the Army

I was a bad motherfucker, slightly retarded

Mentally institutionalized, since the '85

Buildin tree houses (that the wind couldn't blow down)

Look at me now, holdin it down

Doin it well, I ain't triple platinum yet (but ain't gon' worry 'bout it)

I'm wearin the good damn crown, man I'm the president

And reppin both states (back here in Carolina)

Where the hell did you find 'em? (boy is an animal)

His flow is incredible, style is bananas

I just wanna go to the Grammy's and I don't care if I win

Just to say I've been god dammit (god dammit)

Get on dis motorcycle

Get on dis motorcycle

And that way you can ride wit a ... (y'all ready)

Get on dis motorcycle

Get on dis motorcycle

And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y'all ready)

On the hurl and dirt road, them big ass pot holes

Lay in a - old home, lay in a - screen doors

Car in the back yard, dog chain tied up

Ain't drove it in years, sittin on nothin

Spit crunk mosquito buckets, hot wood heaters

Hooked up Honda Accord, with house speakers

Bag, phone and beeper, corduroys and sneakers

Pit Spike Lee's and them shell toe Adidas

You don't know shit 'bout Petey (Petey)

Real definition of the greasy, grimy and gritty

You really fittin to sellin drugs for another nigga

Always lookin at me like your trigger finger itchin

I give ya my best witness, when you come to handle your business

You better be ready to get it, cause I don't be bullshittin

I'm up into plastic bottles cause if I keep on feelin the way I'm feelin

I'ma blow up in this motherfucker

Twenty-seven dollars to my name, headed up

85 pissy drunk, Petey still made me drive

Left off from LaGrange, passin through Spartanburg

On the way to High Point and my speech startin to slur

Better tell these sons of bitches, boy to move won't allow for me

To stop and say I'm sorry to this dude and this scout

It was just a little bump, shit you dented my Ferrari

Don't call the law, shit is rented, look I'm sorry

All we have done in the name of the south

Gave these ugly motherfuckers somethin to "Raise Up" about

But I'm still unfulfilled, since my daddy still drivin

That fuckin school bus, know that Bubba still strivin

I want me a label, want me a mansion

Timmy can't give it to me, Jimmy ain't spit it to me

Rest assure though, the day is approachin

When these old country boys ain't just playin, they coachin

Get on dis motorcycle ..

Y'all ready, get on dis motorcycle y'all ready

Get on dis motorcycle ..

Y'all ready

Get on dis motorcycle HEYYY!