INTRO My auntie made some Crab Chilau, we headed over there now Ah huh, oooooh, there we go Uh, uh huh, oh Yah, oh yah VERSE ONE I come from that flirty dirty/ That scurry dirty where the curry's purty (pretty)/ Eatin’ hotdogs in the church parkin' lot/ My daddy 4-wheeler in three parking spots/ You wanna come off that eggs and ham/ That honey bacon on a lemon square/ That futuristic, county fair/ School girl flippin' burnt hair/ But it’s simple like a new day/ Or a 2-fade when the crew's paid/ And everybody looking on a Tuesday/ For a girl name Diji who do braids/ We got fold-out chairs in the back seat/ Headed to my sister track meet/ Red Lobstеr biscuits and apple sauce/ I got bologna burnin' on a gas stove, and now/ HOOK I been at thе center of/ A city full of heat/ You can tell them babies laughing/ By the way they show they teeth/ Now if you looking for a party/ Just head out to the street/ Right 'round in Tampa/ CHORUS And if you catch me lookin' decent/ Riding cleaner than a mug/ My daddy got sent away/ So the hood just showing me love/ Grandpa gave me his chain/ Cause gold is bout thick as blood/ Down in Tampa/ VERSE TWO Imma Florida orange/ I storm in the morn and perform what a chorus of horns/ Born in the corn/ With a form that's quiet in the cold but'll swarm in the warm/ Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots/ 3x in the mirror/ Riding slow with my lil' cousin holdin’ the car door/ Let the mixtape bang out your ears/ Every other month is hurricane season/ We poor we black, we ain’t leavin'/ Confederate flag on the ceiling/ But them white folks eating/ Out the hands of my grandma holiday season/ Barefoot Goyamming where Everybody know a Tom G/ You can find me/ Playing baseball with a broomstick/ In the middle of the street/ Jit HOOK I been at the center of/ A city full of heat/ You can tell them babies laughing/ By the way, they show they teeth/ Now if you looking for a party/ Just head out to the street/ Right ’round Tampa/ CHORUS Where the sun shining so bright/ It'll put you to sleep/ Ain't no point in bringin crabs cause/ Our cookout's at the beach/ Don’t come up in my mama house/ Acting like you cannot speak/ Right round in Tampa/ VERSE THREE See, listen it's/ Too much fight in a crack dog/ Too much night in a black doll/ And when girls look like black dolls/ They drip attitude and mac sauce/ We got welfare for the well's fair/ Disrespecting your Ivy League/ Come home for a holiday/ Now what's a college degree to these collard greens?/ We Georgia peach, New York Giant/ Havana, Cuba on the nightstand/ Ybor City, casket dropped and/ My tattoo artist my hype man/ And I'mma see you at choir practice/ I'mma see you at Purple Passion/ "Yo, I'mma kill Trell the next time/ His ex come round and he funny actin'"/ OUTRO Aye real quick Google: "Florida woman ain't tryna be a star Cause it ain't nothing but a ball of gas" "Florida woman put her right hand to God And that's why this track slap" Get it? Cause me and God's hand met in the sky Like a- You got it
Read the complete lyrics to "Tampa (W/ A lil Speed)" by Zhalarina from the album "Again" in 2021. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Hip-Hop, Remix, Christian Rap.
"Tampa (W/ A lil Speed)" is performed by Zhalarina. from the album "Again" in 2021 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Tampa (W/ A lil Speed)" is credited to Zhalarina. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Tampa (W/ A lil Speed)" appears on "Again" in 2021.
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