Lletres:
The Wood Brothers Where My Baby Might Be

my record at the radio station Feel the sensation, I put it right there They be like Luda, I be like yea! You like it like that, dontchya baby? The

woods Street of my styles, no smiles, trying to gun down the golden child Still on trial for my old endeavors Cold weather got catched trying to buck wholes in my

purple in my cup, that mean I'm leanin' tough I got them haters on my back, so I be strapped up I'm in a league of my own while them haters throw stones But my

to the city You might catch me drunk in the pub Or either crunk in the club Whether you like it or not Don't matter where I hang People love my twang

life like a bum Times is rough, my auntie got enough problems of her own Nigga, you supposed to be grown I agree, I try to be the man I'm 'posed to be

only fair that I should knock on wood 'Cause my bitch is on the street, pussy sell real good And all my ho know not to trip, bitch fuck pretty I'll take out my

mess with me bone And he gettin' on my nerves, I'm 'bout to go in his home Bitch, my brother aint no hoe Bitch, my mother ain't no hoe Bitch, my father

life like a bum Times is rough, my auntie got enough problems of her own Nigga, you supposed to be grown I agree, I try to be the man I'm 'posed to be

one button, my roof open like a hard spot Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch, my life was hard knock Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart