Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Slimm Calhoun
Slimm Calhoun
Vocals
C-BONE
C-BONE
Background Vocals
Big Boi
Big Boi
Vocals
T-Mo Goodie
T-Mo Goodie
Vocals
André 3000
André 3000
Vocals
Billie O
Billie O
Background Vocals
Bobby B.
Bobby B.
Background Vocals
J-Sweet
J-Sweet
Background Vocals
Carl Mo
Carl Mo
Programming
Donny Mathis
Donny Mathis
Guitar
Preston Crump
Preston Crump
Bass
David Sheats
David Sheats
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Corey Andrews
Corey Andrews
Songwriter
Robert Barnett
Robert Barnett
Songwriter
Brian Loving
Brian Loving
Songwriter
Antwan Patton
Antwan Patton
Songwriter
David Sheats
David Sheats
Songwriter
Carlton Mahone
Carlton Mahone
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Carl Mo
Carl Mo
Producer
Earthtone III
Earthtone III
Co-Producer
John Frye
John Frye
Mixing Engineer
Warren Bletcher
Warren Bletcher
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Brad Hengerer
Brad Hengerer
Assistant Recording Engineer
Malik Albert
Malik Albert
Assistant Recording Engineer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer
Kevin Parker
Kevin Parker
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Some of that, uh, LTD Lincoln Town Car
Some of that El Dorado funk, know what I'm talking about?
Gangsta shit, you know? Laid back, cool out, yeah
You know we keep it crunk around here, A-town style
Getting head on the highways, yeah, but this what I wanna know
[Chorus]
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the Dungeon clique
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Dirty South, ****, we straight gangsta pimps
[Verse 1]
O-U-T-K-A-S-T, O-N-P, G-double O-D-I-E so fresh, so clean
Back with Stankonia, Dungeon Family-ee
Pearl Cadillac on bigs and vogues, flip flops, t-shirt and Dickies
It's the return of Billy Ocean, Cuervo is my drink
Stank, stank means you got the funkiest, dopest heat on the streets
Three G ski, Slimm, Big Boi and this is C-B-O-N-E
If you need some backup, find your own
Yo' girl gon' give you grief at home
Just tell her these hoes wanna be on the same team that she's playin' on
[Chorus]
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the Dungeon clique
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Dirty South, ****, we straight gangsta pimps
[Verse 2]
Dope Boys in the trap, like to stack the dough
When beef come around, can't let it go
When my funds turn legit, I'ma let you know
Ridin' rims real good down Old National
It's trappable
Two bed, jacuzzi bath
It's natural
Puttin' cheese in ya stash
Un-taxable
Futhermuckers get mad
Steady watchin' myself, got eyes in my back
Don't take no slack, when you managing the trap
If you front, work out, gotta get it right back
I trap by day, boy, rap by night
C-Bone in this bitch, College Park, trump tight
[Chorus]
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the Dungeon clique
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Dirty South, ****, we straight gangsta pimps
[Verse 3]
I'm pimp tight, give a fuck, **** know what's up
It's T-Mo and OutKast in the back of my truck
We gotta simple little problem that we got to solve
It's like it ain't about the money, we got to handle the job
No colors or rags, just guns and masks
We not scared to blast, and dip off fast
With the Dungeon clique, just pulled a lick
Now what you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
[Chorus]
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the Dungeon clique
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Dirty South, ****, we straight gangsta pimps
[Verse 4]
Back on the scene, a sack of green, sitting on chrome and rubber bands
Paint lookin' like Candy Land, it's Slimm, the South Paw triggerman
Flippin' work and whippin' weight, rock up, roll and get the papes
Chop them hoes and then you skate, back to the block with the mate
Grams the O's, slabs to whole, was a young **** holdin', big face foldin'
Pimps are known for catching runaways
A good hustla's known to keep his gun away
First **** run up and try to jack mine
First **** fuck up to get flat lined
Pack still stainless, Coupe and Verts brainless
Y'all don't wanna fuck with we
The trunk be bangin', off the chain danglin'
Y'all know that I'm from CP
When we shoot boy, shot don't reverse
Sent for you downtown, sent for the nurse, seen
[Chorus]
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
OutKast, Goodie Mob, and the Dungeon clique
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit? (Do you really?)
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit? (Yeah, yeah)
Dirty South, ****, we straight gangsta pimps
[Verse 5]
OutKast with a K, yeah, them **** are hard
Harder than a **** trying to impress God
We'll pull your whole deck, fuck pullin' your card
And still take my guitar and take a walk in the park
And play the sweetest melody the street ever heard
Now bitches sucking on my nouns and I'm eating they verbs
Get full and ****, ****, pop, pop, lock, lock
To the, to the beat, beat
As if pitbulls went out of style, made a vow to myself
If it's for the wealth, I'll stop
Well, put it like this, it's like me sellin' some dope
Because my girlfriend wants to shop
Wrong reason, whatever the season
Hey, winter, spring, summer, or fall, I don't stall
Slow drag with your brain against the wall
Yeah, ****, naw, we lean to the side, don't fall
All y'all fuck boys, tuck toys inside your pants
Just to pull it out, point it at the ground
And make a **** wanna dance
Now what that be for? You're on that reefer
And on that Tupac, in front of them ooh-wops
Trying to show out, that's the ho route
Talking loud, talking 'bout that's gangsta shit
Written by: André Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Brian Loving, Carlton, Corey Andrews, David Sheats, Mahone, Robert Barnett
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