Aye, aye, Bun who did this man?
So me and you got, T.I.P., Killer Mike, Lil Jon, and Bun B
So that's the king of the South, the Underground King
The king of Crunk and King Kong all on the same song
Heheh, aye, Jon, they ain't ready
We takin' it on back to the trap my nigga!
I got them 'bows on my 'lac, swervin' on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back, bumpin' niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sac, smokin' on that killa!
In the hood where I'm at, trappin' with my niggaz!
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
New, new, niggaz don't wanna touch the killa
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
Man we been throwin' raps for too long
Aye whatchu wanna do homes?
I'm finna pull this heat and have you fetal like a new-born
T.I.P., Mike, and Bun B, scared whatchu better be
We was just the kings, now we heads of a legacy
Leaders of the new south, fake niggaz move out
He talkin' loud and proud, but he scared with a tool out
I'm the nigga they be askin' what we gon' do 'bout?
Mike told me "Fuck them niggaz, bring that new new out"
Tank the Chevy, buy the Caddie, bring the 22's out
Put the city back on top, just seperate the fools now
We had lots of misrepresentation but hey, we cool now
Can't keep playin' both sides of the fence, you got to choose now
The realest of the real or the fakest of the fake
If ya got it on ya chest, shawty say it to my face
When ya hold ya nuts in hatred, ya only rushin' til ya wait
And we gon' show them people what it really is in the A
I got them 'bows on my 'lac, swervin' on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back, bumpin' niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sac, smokin' on that killa!
In the hood where I'm at, trappin' with my niggaz!
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
New, new, niggaz don't wanna touch the killa
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
Straight from Atlanta, the hog hand-ler
Grown folk trap, scramb-ler
Knee deep, means to get them G's to my manager
My Mack-10 made for action, body-baggin' and throat braggin'
I'll drag 'em threw the river like a bad yellow nigga
I'm mashin' with pops fashion, bustin' first no questions askin'
You gon' off that waterboat and thinkin' you can hold me
I'm, King Kong on every track, no cap-sule can hold me
I'll thump, thump, thump, thump, when I bump, bump, bump, bump
It's woofers, tweeters, speakers, geekers, all in yo, trunk!
My dad ain't raise no fag, my mom ain't had no punk
We don't hesitate or negotiate, we pop Chevy trunks
From the home of Coca-Cola, I'm not referrin' to soda
I'ma grind 'til I shine, or die going for mine
Sick Sawyer buy my side, swervin' and blowin' pine
Don't be a victim to a killer, be a father to ya son
This Re-Akshon, Killa Kill, T.I.P and Bun
I got them 'bows on my 'lac, swervin' on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back, bumpin' niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sac, smokin' on that killa!
In the hood where I'm at, trappin' with my niggaz!
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
New, new, niggaz don't wanna touch the killa
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
Bitch I'm comin' live from the trunk and I thrive on the funk
'Cuz I'd rather die like a man than survive like a punk
I'm no coward, I'm 'dro-powered, you gettin Twin-Towered
Devoured, it's a shit-storm and you 'bout to get showered
From Broward county to Harris, Pasadena to Paris
I embarrass niggaz on chrome wheels as big as the ferris
'Cuz there is, now way now how, I stay low-key, low-brow
In that black on black on black in the 'lac, 'cuz I'm so wild
I get, drunk off that, I'll be high off this
I might pop one of those, it don't matter my nigga, I don't miss
They put me hot on list, where players are posted
But them players we posted up on corners
When they say and get roasted
And the prayer get toasted, 'cuz I keep the flame on
The face for the game on, leave a stain on anythin' I puts my name on
Disrespect and the tech'll peck a player like Woody
'Cuz cain't nuttin' keep a trill nigga down, ask Khujo Goodie
I got them 'bows on my 'lac, swervin' on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back, bumpin' niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sac, smokin' on that killa!
In the hood where I'm at, trappin' with my niggaz!
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
I got the new, new
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
New, new, niggaz don't wanna touch the killa
(Killa k-k-killa, killa)
All I gotta say is sucker emcees better run
The debate is now, who's the greatest emcee?
T.I.P., Killer Mike, or Bun?
We are not doing this for fun, this is a bloodsport
Emcees are dyin', mothers are cryin'
And wack-ass niggaz will go out tryin'
It is officially a new day, I am officially the new mouth
And these are the emcees of the new south!
Letras: Re-Akshon (Remix)Killer Mike [final]
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