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Verse I
I come from that flirty dirty
that scurvy dirty
where the currys purty
eatin hotdogs in the church parkin lot
my daddy truck fill up three parking spots
you better come off that eggs and ham
that turkey bacon on a lemon square
that futuristic, that county fair
women flippin burnt hair
simple like a new day
or kool-aid when the crews paid
and everybody looking on a Tuesday
for a girl name shawn who do braids
got fold out chairs in the back seat
headed to my sister track meet
Red Lobster biscuits and apple sauce
bologna burnin on a gas stove
Chorus
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 lookin for a party, just head out the street/ right down in Tampa
Where the sun shinin so bright, itll put you to sleep/ aint no point bringin crabs cause our cookouts at the beach/ dont come up in my momma house actin like you cannot speak/ right down in Tampa
Verse II
too much fight in a crack dog
too much night in a black doll
and when girls look like black dolls
they drip swagu and mac sauce
welfare for the wells fair
disrespecting your Ivy league
come home for a holiday,
whats college degree to these collard greens?
we GA peach, NY Giant
Havana, Cuba on the night stand
Ybor city, casket lock
my tattoo artist my hype man
imma see you at choir practice
imma see you at Purple Passion
Imma kill Trell the next time
his ex come round and he funny actin
Chorus
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 lookin for a party, just head out the street/ right down in Tampa
Where the sun shinin so bright, itll put you to sleep/ aint no point bringin crabs cause our cookouts at the beach/ dont come up in my momma house actin like you cannot speak/ right down in Tampa
Verse III
Imma Florida orange/
I storm in the morn and perform/
Whata chorus of horns/
born in the corn, w/ a form
that’s quiet in the cold
but’ll swarm in the warm/
Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots
3x in the mirror/
ride slow with my lil cousin holding the car door, let my mixtape bang out your ears/ every other month is hurricane season/
we po’, we black, we ain’t leavin’/
confederate flags on the ceiling/
but them white folks eating out the hands of my grandma holiday season/
barefoot Goyamming,
still toe Jamming to Tom G/
you can find me, playing basketball in flip flops in the middle of the street
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