Lyrics Do It - Rasheeda
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Come
on,
let's
start
this
shit
Shawty,
let's
crank
this
shit
A
little
sumethin'
for
them
hatin'
hoes
Who
gets
nothin'
but
them
knees
and
boes
Why
y'all
all
in
my
grill?
Why
y'all
can't
keep
it
real?
Always
tryin'
to
plot
and
scheme
Wanna
live
this
life
is
just
a
dream
Ain't
no
one
in
teams
All
the
real
niggas
know
what
it
mean
Catch
me,
y'all
just
to
slow
Hatin'
hoes
gotta
let
y'all
go
Don't
never
try
to
stop
my
flo'
Won't
tell
you
this
shit
no
mo'
Da
baddest
hoe
that
you
ever
seen
Two
triple
O,
shawty
'bout
that
green
Naw
they
don't
understand
These
niggas
don't
understand
These
muthafuckers
think
we
playin'
See
they
don't
know
what
we
sayin'
Fake
niggas
in
our
grill
Fake
niggas
all
in
our
grill
These
niggas
don't
wanna
get
to
it
These
niggas
don't
wanna
do
it
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
You
can
tell
a
real
nigga
from
the
fake
fake
A
trill
nigga
that's
down
in
the
cake
cake
A
hot
girl
that's
clean
not
stank
stank
Some
bad
weave
for
somebody
So
you
took
a
little
drank
So
I
guess
it
made
you
think
that
you
could
when
you
can't
Wit'
the
N,
wit'
the
ain't
Ain't
nobody
got
time
round
here
to
playing
round
Sucka
wit'
the
big
sack
nigga
better
lay
it
down
Comin'
through
ain't
bout
that
shady
shit
Boy
I'm
mo'
dirty
than
Dusty
Rhodes
I
drop
the
beat
and
rock
the
flo'
Representing
that
Que
Bo
Gold
So
don't
you
try
to
test
us
out
thinkin'
we
country
wit'
no
skills
'Cuz
I
drop
the
bass
and
tame
the
bass
Put
this
fire
to
yo'
grill
Well,
I
was
born
in
Illinois,
okay
ah
Raised
in
Atlanta,
G-A
yeah,
lived
in
New
York
and
L.A.,
yeah
My
nigga,
I'm
da
shit
no
matter
where
I
stay
'Cuz,
uh,
I
wuz
cut
like
that,
lil'
buddy,
I'm
stacked
like
that
From
da
front
to
da
side
to
da
back,
Rasheeda,
and
I'm
tight
like
that
I
ain't
never
been
worried
bout
anotha
Cutter
her
buddy,
lil'
buddy,
I
don't
studder
9 double
lock
chrome
for
the
lame
lame
Big
faces
in
my
pocket
not
the
chump
change
Ride
the
Benz
with
the
wood
grain,
grilled
out,
smoke
frame
With
the
knock
knock
38
pop
pop
all
you
haters
just
stop
or
you
gone
get
dropped
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Stick
'em,
ha
ha
ha,
stick
'em
Fuck
dem
pussy
niggas
and
who
ever
wit'
'em
All
I
say
is
sic
'em
and
there
go
my
boys,
D-S-G-B,
Pastor
damn
Troy
Boy,
you
ain't
ready,
boy,
you
don't
want
it
Boy
we
ain't
ready,
bitch
get
disappointed
Shit,
all
I
know
is
southern
blo'd
not
lower
than
a
dime
From
thirty
piece
to
quarter
ki,
we
strictly
on
da
grind
No
time
to
spit
no
evidence,
no
evidence,
no
charge
Since
they
ain't
got
no
evidence,
I
gave
them
my
lil'
boy
The
scars
from
my
hand
as
I
crank
up
the
speaker
Drop
the
bomb
on
you
bitches,
Pastor
and
Rasheeda
Bitch,
do
it
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on
now)
Do
it
(Come
on)
Do
the
damn
thang
Album
Dirty South
1 Intro
2 Do It
3 Mr. Baller
4 No Trust
5 What Cha Workin' Wit
6 I Am Da Sh..
7 Faizon Phone Skit / Not Tonight
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