Southern Fried Killer Mike

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[Verse 1]
Welcome to this country fried bonafide
And my flow is sweet as a potato pie
Never been a sour apple, I'm a now-or-later guy
I'mma tell her something sweet and she gon' lick me later, guy
Hello to my hater guy, how you doing sir
I know you got mean words
But keep them to yourself unless those murders will occur
Cause I'm from killa kill Adamsville right next door
Bowen Homes and Dixie Hills, Allen Temple Wildwood and Plainville
These motherfuckers murder here in plain sight
Everyday broad daylight, they ain't right
Shit's loco out in Zone 4
Since the '80s it's been that way though
My nigga uncle died shooting back at the po-po
He went out but he ain't go slow though
Even hit the cop back with the 4-4 though
Got buried in the Rolex, Jordans and a Polo
Nigga died pretty as a pimp in a photo
Woah-Woah-- Yeen heard fat boy
He ain't say that boy, don't even try to act, boy
That fat black motherfucker got a way with the words
I tell you, he can rap, boy
Respect my words like a rabbi
I'm a porterhouse, you a motherfucking ribeye
Hate on me to your girlfriend, she gonna look you dead eye
Tell you "So? Motherfucker he still fly."