Letra da Música Came Along Way de Haystak

South side! Haystak mak, full circle 3-6-oh
Back on ya like this here. this here I say down
Down south players do they get busy? Well
Them eagles on them spinners get dizzy as hell

They keep on spinnin' "beep, beep"
As the haters start grinnin "whats up dawg? "
They talk a lot but my boys don't study dem fools
Who get the last laugh flossin on em covered in jewels?

Way before some rhymin an royalty checks
Diamonds was a way a getting more respect
Street flava all-star my peers r pioneers
Sonny an k dem boys been makin money fo years

Makin cash money like m. c. M
U been in tha game a minute you'll remember them
Big body chevys, rims, spoilers
In an out a town like the tennesee oilers

Gals call us but we wont call back
Stak your big ass thinks u all that
We came a long way ay ay... just to be paid aid aid
And we sittin on top op op, and u know it wont stop op op

We roll up on em
"Brr, buk buk buk, vrumm, vrumm
Where'd that big 'ol white boy come from?

Aw big dawgs gotta get that money "brring"
"Street flava records" girl let me speak ta sonny
"Whats up man? " "what's on ya mind boss? "
"I'm thinkin 'bout a merger" "uh-huh, ya think? "
"We murder it"

Double s that's the way I ride
South side til the day I die
On the rhyme I wont be denied
They be no joke down here where we reside

That fast u can be on politics an status
Mad, cash like an ass gettin apparatus
The baddest gals be with the ugliest men
Down for hair an nails who got the most money ta spend

Surround sound that shit's amazin dude
But I bring my beat-box on ya block an get rave reviews
Stak's a bullet in tha bill-board, rockin award shows
World tours, take control of record stores
Can u see my sales soar? Fo sure, u can't deny me no more
Pack my bags beeyotch, bon jour, I'm on tour

Straight clownin leavin mic stands broke
Cuz I can put it down with out the lights and smoke
Sonny dropped the track and it was straight up butter
Ain't nuthin ta do but count my money, an shoot the magazine covers

My team's supreme, I fiend for green, like a
Sweet splittin cheese gittin cream machine
So many words come ta ya mind when ya mention mak-million
Lyrical genius, got-damn this brilliant
So cold-blooded I shoulda been born sicilian
Odds on doin what we doin must be one in a billion

I played it right late at nite and I stayed alive
I been writin erry nite since eighty-five