Ain't Allowed Where I'm from - Juicy J, Project Pat, Driicky Graham

These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches

The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches

I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause

All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from

Nigger stuck off in the fare, fucking with them bricks

His partners put them laws on him, over a bitch

These pussy nigger scared, don’t wanna take they charge

They swear they hard but they softer then cotton balls

Real niggers go to jail and don’t tell them nothing, true

Do that time, come back home then get back to hustling

We got everything for sale, but the kitchen sink

Keep my eyes on you snakes, I don’t even blink

Boy you scared, you gonna tell them white folks everything, yes sir

To cut your time, you gonna give up errybody name

Snitching nigger you ain’t straight, them folks gonna find you dead

Cut your tongue out your mouth then put one in your head

These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches

The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches

I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause

All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from

The bigger the gun, the bigger the slug

The bigger the hole for doc to plug,

Hole in your head, I put you to sleep

Body not found, mama gon' weep

Droppin the dime, an runnin your mouth

Nowhere to run down in the south

goons and

I your wig

blowing on kush and sipping on hen

Forgive me father for your sin

convicted felon back in the pen

he looking for bread, he know that’s a loss

behind them bars, now you gon' squeal

These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches

The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches

I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause

All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from

Prime time snitching lies, got line twistin guys

Take the clic to make them flake no bind side in district 9

Trying to dodge prison time, all die for fishin by, smith and 9's, pow pow pow,

If you mention mine one put you in a scope, two clack then it’s smoke,

three scoop you up and put yo body in an envelope,

4 send yo folks jus ya head chest guts now you leakin body stinkin up the Fed

Ex truck,

and that fed pressure, makes the snitches wanna roast you,

they start droppin dimes like they coins miss the toll booth,

God as my witness man i swear to tell the whole truth,

where I’m from we gets it done and act like we don’t know dude

These niggers dropping dimes, they some real snitches

The only dimes that I ever dropped was some bitches

I’ma cut some fingers, I’ma clip some tongues, cause

All that pouring and that talking ain’t allowed where I’m from