(feat. Bubba Spar$%&^)

AH!


[Females voices humming]


[Petey Pablo: talking]
Y'all ready ..
Y'all ready ..

Y'all ready ..

[Verse 1: Petey Pablo]

One of the illest rhymers that ever came outta Carolina, put this whole %#@!
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 mother$#&@er, slightly !@$!ed

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)

[Chorus x2: Petey Pablo]

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 $$# truck (y'all ready)

[motorcycle engine]


[Verse 2: Petey Pablo]
On the hurl and dirt road, them big $$# 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 %#@! 'bout Petey (Petey)
Real definition of the greasy, grimy and gritty

You really fittin to sellin drugs for another ^!$$%
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 bull%#@!tin
I'm up into plastic bottles cause if I keep on feelin the way I'm feelin
I'ma blow up in this mother$#&@er


[Chorus x2: w/ ad libs]


[Verse 3: Bubba Spar$%&^]
Twenty-seven dollars to my name, headed up
85 pissy drunk, Petey still made me drive

Left off from LaGrange, passin through Squattenburg
On the way to High Point and my speech startin to slur
Better tell these sons of (*##$es, 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, %#@! you dented my Ferrari
Don't call the law, %#@! is rented, look I'm sorry

All we have done in the name of the south
Gave these ugly mother$#&@ers somethin to "Raise Up" about
But I'm still unfulfilled, since my daddy still drivin

That $#&@in 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 $$#ure though, the day is approachin
When these old country boys ain't just playin, they coachin

[Petey Pablo: talking]
Get on dis motorcycle ..

Y'all ready, get on dis motorcycle
(*motorcycle engine*), y'all ready
Get on dis motorcycle ..
Y'all ready
Get on dis motorcycle [motorcycle engine]

HEYYY!

[Chorus x2]

[Female voices humming and motorycle engine continues until end]