Lac Dogs & Hogs Lyrics - Wooden Leather - Nappy Roots

[Cars revving] 

[Chorus 4x - Nappy Roots] 

(Yes) Oh yes it's them Lac Dogs, Caddy Hogs and D.T.S.'s 

(Oh yes) It's them Lac Dogs, Caddy Hogs and D.T.S.'s 

[Verse 1 - Skinny Deville] 

Skinny talkin bout that wood with that custom leather, bangin down I-65 

Slaw and slum but dubs are better, who you think gon' keep it live? 

It's Nappy bitch, what have to come 

Pay attention, learn your lesson, yup 

We them country folk with Caddy Hogs and D.T.S.'s, Lac Dogs 

What you think that Nappy gon' be broke forever? Shit naw 

Hit the bank and cashin in on old investments 

What, you ain't know about them country fried sessions? 

Does that Likwit hit in '97 +Answer+ all yo' +Questions+? 

Kentucky's on the map now, who you think done gave directions? 

From the top and back down, we rep the country to perfection 

Don't it look so slum with 55 from New York down to Texas? 

Hella poor straight from the South and haters must respect this 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 2 - Ron Clutch] 

(Let me tell you about it) 

When I first got my baby she could barely start 

A-hand-me-down from a real O.G., all day she stayed in park 

Almost never did she drive 

Born in 1979 

And she weighed about a ton 

Big ol' body built to run 

First thing I done, hauled her over, had her hummin G notes 

Underneath her hood, hundreds of horses powered her ego 

Her government name was Coup Deville but I called her Miss Piggy 

Top her with some (?) and fit her for some twenties (twenties) 

Playas hate that I be trickin like she's all that I'm love with 

So we took her to the edge and shoved it and still "Ball out on a Budget" 

Dug in her guts, laced her up with leather and wood 

Together it go good, us country boys forever stay hood 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 3 - B. Stille] 

You shove that shit that go bump bump bump bump 

And ya, shake the lock off her muh'fucker trunk 

When ya, hit the block make her muh'fucker jump 

Roll your window down, stop, look like somethin like a pimp 

Roll that window back up, and show 'em they reflection and their ultrafade 

Then chop on that sucka like Wesley's +Blade+ 

Escalade D.T.S., switch it up, keep them haters on they toes 

Red Rolls, Fleetwood hoes 

Can't believe it, when they see them twenty fo's, believe it 

My ham and cheese the freshest 

Now what I'm talkin bout? I give you three guesses 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 4 - Big V] 

You feel the wind, don't ya? 

You hear the tires squallin 

Kentucky, Colorado, Boston down to New Orleans 

Big bodies get it done, Dodge Ram preferably 

Cause they do run run, they do run run 

Black magic, lookin better then Wesson fryin a pan of fish 

Gangsta leanin like they do in Los Angeles (that's gangsta) 

Adjective, describin what I'm rollin in 

Them country fellas ain't gon' stop it, we on the road again 

[R. Prophet] 

God damn, yes I am, the thriller with the skrilla 

Got plans, Pac fan +Strictly 4 my N.I.G.G.A.Z.+ 

Stop starin, we not playin 

Armor color kryptonite 

Rims nice but thank God our dreams came to life 

Fast roller, cash swoll up 

The mind mold up 

The crowd hold us 

Soldiers quick to throw they rags when I roll up 

Dimes is quarters 

Sell liquor, my rhymes is colder 

Prophet never look this fine since I grinded Cola 

Roll up