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Georgia feat. Field Mob & Jamie Foxx

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Georgia, Georgia Georgia, Georgia We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya Country name, country slang, fiends at the liquor store Lac cruisin', crap shootin', fifty on the ten to four Overcast the forecast shows clouds from plenty blow And we ready for war in the state of Georgia, yeah Dirty words, dirty birds, it's mean in this Dirty South You ever disrespect it, then we'll clean out yo dirty mouth Bulldogs clockin', these lookout boys is hawkin' You gotta be brave in the state of Georgia I got five Georgia homes where I rest my Georgia bones Come anywhere on my land and I'll aim at your Georgia dome If you get in an altercation, just hop on your mobile phone And tell somebody you need help in the middle of Georgia We some ATL thrashers, scope ya pumpkin and smash ya We'll come through your hood worse than a tsunami disaster Don't know who they gonna get or who them robbers gonna hit That's why I keep my Georgia TEC in the state of Georgia We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya I'm from the home of neckbones, black- Eyed peas turn up in collard greens We the children of the corn, dirtier than Bob Marley's pee-pee GA, the Peach State, where we stay My small city's called Albany, Georgia Pecan country like catfish with grits Candied yams and chitlins, grandma's homemade baked biscuits The land of classical Caprices and Impala Super Sports Ingredients in this peach cobbler called Georgia I love the women out in L.A. and the shoppin' stores in New York The beaches are M-I-A but ain't nothin' like that GA red clay Look on your map, we right above Florida, next to 'Bama Under the Carolinas and Tennessee, you'll see Georgia Where Gladys Knight took a midnight train The birthplace of Martin Luther Cain Where ass so plump it hits first dick Where a Lac truck sit on twenty-sixes Know where you're goin' or you'll be lost Found in these palm trees in the South These choppers'll tomahawk yo top down here in Georgia We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya Now, I was born in the belly of the bottom of the map Where the wet paint drip, tear down Berettas And the chrome on the Chevy when I'm choppin' in the trap Country as headaches from warriors Totes under sprays, same shape as Florida Lookin' for me, boy, you'll find me Down in Dougherty County, small city called Albany, Georgia Where they used to call us some ' Bamas and now they jockin' the grammar Watch your mouth 'less you out for some manner Bunch of hustlers, one on every corner Like the Waffle House in Atlanta R.I.P. Camoflauge out in Savannah, Georgia Now you might come for vacation, leave on probation Home of the strip club, known for the thick girls Where the tricks put tips in the tip cup For the thick chick in the thong with the big butt Wanna get love? Won't be cheap, blowin' money like Peachtree Make a chick take it off like Freaknik down here in Georgia When you see them Confederate flags, you know what it is Your folks picked cotton here, that's why we call it The Field I got a Chevrolet on twenty-sixes I'm from GA, GA, Georgia We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya We on the grind in Georgia, all the time It ain't nothin' on my mind but Georgia, we ain't playin' with ya Georgia, Georgia Georgia, Georgia Georgia