Refrain:
"Welcome to the south," I tell you 10 years late
I know that I still barely claim the Sunshine State
I am a seedling of sunflowers, so my take
On hip hop doesn't register in Tampa Bay
Cause IMO, there's too many songs for the club
That's why they tell me that I don't make enough
I'm trying to be the alternative
Plus, I'm living life without the "turn up kit"
Cause I don't smoke and I don't drink
Unless it's ham and a DP (Doc. Pepper)
I got 23 flavors!
But since they only want one they won't play us
They want bangers
Like I'm a Miley Cyrus selling cocaina felon
Aiming at your melon with a deadly weapon
A farce to be reckon with once you step into
Flo-da
Chorus:
Flo-da
This that Flo-da
That Flo-da
Verse:
This the Flo-da throw a sober soul who want to roll a little bit offset
Tampa handles xans and grams like flashes in the pan, that perk of set
Tripping; missing milli's gets a killing if you're dealing; get that check
Peel them feelings, drill them women, then fifth wheel them; spare no disrespek
(Hey) I just let the rhythm hit the folk
(Hey) I imagine everything I wrote
(Skrt) in the foreign while you walk the curb
(Skrt) hope that flexing getting on your nerves
(Woo) brother trying to make it out the trap
(Woo) but the wrist in motion got me racks
(Bands) so this fly paper got me stuck
(Bands) Curad got me for the papercuts
Running the streets has got me so cunning they say I'm mobbing
Like ASAP, give me the dollars or a gat has momma sobbing
Cause, homie, the streets is watching and phonies getting one option
You snitches become a problem, you fixing to catch a hot one
Just like I got your GF; she tell me you on that BS
You playing games like a PS; for you that means time to eat dust
And since you could never beat us, she calling to get the leader's
Pen I-S, but she a reject and all that's coming are these checks
Like another comma and another comma
Count another hunnid and another hunnid
Bands have her dancing, but passing romancing
Means packing my pants with the cash that I'm stacking
Just a little fling, then I'm back in (work)
Hustling the art that I craft in (work)
Homie, this the grind; I don't dab in (work)
So take another hit and then pass it (work)
Sticking with the green; I ain't eating lean
No promethazine; Split it with the team
Women going wild when they're in the crowd
Know we're well endowed; tipping a cash cow
Knew that fusing music proves that
Dude has stupid pen game
Fools to eager duel the speaker who at leisure used your weaker
Tunes and geeked your super freak or Rick James
Eff your couch potato set, cause I tornado
F-4 your whole label; yes, sir, my flow fatal in flames
Lightning cap; smite these cats like he snaps
Fight these facts: Ten gauge (shots)
And now you know that this that Flo-da
You don't need R-I
Mixed with that Kansas country grammar
And it went awry
I'm from Top-City, but I live in
A new T-Town right?
So when you listen to this mixture
You know it sounds tight
I'm a Chief who don't be chiefing
'Bout the Bucs, but don't be stealing
Bright as Rays in summer skies
Rap Royalty; I'm next in line
But right now
They see me as a serf on this turf
Preferring pauper's with the popular verse
So
Refrain:
"Welcome to the south," I tell you 10 years late
I know that I still barely claim the Sunshine State
I am a seedling of sunflowers, so my take
On hip hop doesn't register in Tampa Bay
Cause IMO, there's too many songs for the club
That's why they tell me that I don't make enough
I'm trying to be the alternative
Plus, I'm living life without the "turn up kit"
Cause I don't smoke and I don't drink
Unless it's ham and a DP (Doc. Pepper)
I got 23 flavors!
But since they only want one they won't play us
They want bangers
Like I'm a Miley Cyrus selling cocaina felon
Aiming at your melon with a deadly weapon
A farce to be reckon with once you step into
Flo-da
Chorus:
Flo-da
That Flo-da
Flo-da
