This Goes Out Songtext
von Murphy Lee

Yeah, yeah
What we have here? (What we have here?)
Does it mean all of our point? (Does it mean all of our point?)
No, sir (no, sir)
East and West (East and West)
So nice (okay)
Uh, yeah (oh-oh)
Uh, yeah (oh-oh)

This goes out to my Midwest crew
Now hold your M-Dub in the air if you feel me
Come all day, come all night
Candy paint on D′s and fo's
Yo, ayo, I eat, sleep, —, rap hip-hop, kid, and nap
Snoop Dogg ′Lac with the diamond in the back
I rep it like a mayor, man
Something like a player, man
St. Louis cookin', and I'm Murphy Lee the killer, man


Hunt someone and lick ′em, make ′em salaam
Praise the Lord or say peace to God
I'm just a schoolboy, call me Mr. Do-What-You-Do-Fool
Claim where you′re from, or we will claim where you move to
Home is where you make it, eat a meal and get naked
You could walk in your drawers, and nobody could say —
I got STL tatted on my right arm, some of them saw 'em
I ain′t dyin', but yo, I′m definitely fightin' for 'em

And keep it tight for ′em, and keep it hype for ′em
And buy at the bar whatever gon' keep the night goin′
Do what you doin', and you doin′ it, just do it big
And if you live to get it, then you gon' get it how you live, ′cause

This goes out to my West Coast crew
Now hold your dub up in the air if you feel me
Come all day, come all night
Hit the switch on your six fo's

Naps, rock, skit
West Coast style T-shirt, khaki lack
Swerve in the Cadillac
Young Roscoe, the black Burt Bacharach
Serve the sacks, flippin' skirts like acrobats

And I dip with you, —, I take you on a ride
Through that place known worldwide
It′s the Westside (Westside)
Chronic, Daytons, switches, dubs
Cap turned to the back with skirts at the Caddy shack


Los Angeles, where they sag to the mud
Drop the back, let it drag, do-rags full of thugs
You′re hard to the back, car full of "blat"
Why A's decay, we way hard, okay?

I rock a five double-O with the bubble nose
Stop, drop the top, I holla at a couple —
For sure, they want to roll with the Philly fanatic
Runnin′ the radio in Cali 'cause I stay in the traffic

This goes out to my East Coast crew
Now hold your E′s up in the air if you feel me
Come all day, come all night
Rock your hoodies and Timbo's

Yo, yo, step in the party like
Sippin′ on Bacardi like
I hooked up with the 'Tics, they like
It's gettin′ frisky for me (oh-oh)
Girls, they strippin′ for me
Lil' Jon, you with us, homie? (okay)

I′m gettin' brainin′, pimpin', I can′t complainin'
It's crazy, I can′t explain it; it′s the Derrty Entertainment
Man, I like to stop and go; she like to mop and glow
Lovin' this track ′cause we gonna rock and roll

I huff and puff until my indo's gone
So I get to stompin′ with my Timbo's on
We might be floppin′, homie; we all critic
Welcome to Harlem World, AKA New York City

We forever runnin' 'round, here forever creepin′
Up all night ′cause, homie, we ain't never sleepin′
I came to do this with my derrty Murphy
Y'all —s better obey ′cause you can get it... (okay)

This goes out to my Dirty South crew
Now hold your S up in the air if you feel me
Come all day, come all night
If you're tempted to throw them bows

Throw your goddamn — up
Throw your goddamn — up
We gon′ drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this —
We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon′ rock it to this —
We represent that Dirty
We ain′t expectin' no —

We represent that Dirty
We ain′t expectin' no —
We wild out in the club
Same —, we don′t give a —
We wild out in the club
Same —, we don't give a —

Lil′ Weezy, —in' Baby, five-four-four
Four-five make a — go (oh-oh)
I'm a fly young —, whole South cold′s great
Stay low and get cake, oh

Yeah, me no play, we can take it outside
Never met a — take my self-pride
It′s Wizzy Wizzle, Southside guy
Outside fly, gutta-gutta in the South, wild five

I represent that money
I ain't scared to throw my — up
Soon as I throw it high up, holla back, Squire
I′m screwed up; I drive slow, not fast

Birdman Jr., I got stones, not cash, —
I'm from the swamp, I smoke dro, not grass
P.O.C. rolled on my hands, got a ninety—degree four in my pants
Give you this respect
I′m still mackin'; you can smell the Pimp Juice on my breath

Get your hands up, —
Throw your goddamn — up
Throw your goddamn — up
We gon′ drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this —

We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon′ rock it to this —
We represent that Dirty
We ain′t expectin' no —

We represent that Dirty
We ain′t expectin' no —
We wild out in the club
Same —, we don′t give a —
We wild out in the club
Same —, we don't give a —