INTRO
My auntie made some Crab Chilau, we headed over there now
Ah huh, oooooh, there we go
Uh, uh huh, oh
Yah, oh yah

VERSE ONE
I come from that flirty dirty/
That scurry dirty where the curry’s purty (pretty)/
Eatin’ hotdogs in the church parkin' lot/
My daddy 4-wheeler in three parking spots/
You wanna come off that eggs and ham/
That honey bacon on a lemon square/
That futuristic, county fair/
School girl flippin’ burnt hair/
But it's simple like a new day/
Or a 2-fade when the crew’s paid/
And everybody looking on a Tuesday/
For a girl name Diji who do braids/
We got fold-out chairs in the back seat/
Headed to my sister track meet/
Red Lobstеr biscuits and apple sauce/
I got bologna burnin' on a gas stove, and now/

HOOK
I been at thе center of/
A city full of heat/
You can tell them babies laughing/
By the way they show they teeth/
Now if you looking for a party/
Just head out to the street/
Right 'round in Tampa/

CHORUS
And if you catch me lookin' decent/
Riding cleaner than a mug/
My daddy got sent away/
So the hood just showing me love/
Grandpa gave me his chain/
Cause gold is bout thick as blood/
Down in Tampa/

VERSE TWO
Imma Florida orange/
I storm in the morn and perform what a chorus of horns/
Born in the corn/
With a form that's quiet in the cold but'll swarm in the warm/
Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots, Nappy Roots/
3x in the mirror/
Riding slow with my lil' cousin holdin' the car door/
Let the mixtape bang out your ears/
Every other month is hurricane season/
We poor we black, we ain't leavin'/
Confederate flag on the ceiling/
But them white folks eating/
Out the hands of my grandma holiday season/
Barefoot Goyamming where
Everybody know a Tom G/
You can find me/
Playing baseball with a broomstick/
In the middle of the street/
Jit
HOOK
I been at the center of/
A city full of heat/
You can tell them babies laughing/
By the way, they show they teeth/
Now if you looking for a party/
Just head out to the street/
Right 'round Tampa/

CHORUS
Where the sun shining so bright/
It'll put you to sleep/
Ain't no point in bringin crabs cause/
Our cookout's at the beach/
Don't come up in my mama house/
Acting like you cannot speak/
Right round in Tampa/

VERSE THREE
See, listen it's/
Too much fight in a crack dog/
Too much night in a black doll/
And when girls look like black dolls/
They drip attitude and mac sauce/
We got welfare for the well’s fair/
Disrespecting your Ivy League/
Come home for a holiday/
Now what’s a college degree to these collard greens?/
We Georgia peach, New York Giant/
Havana, Cuba on the nightstand/
Ybor City, casket dropped and/
My tattoo artist my hype man/
And I'mma see you at choir practice/
I'mma see you at Purple Passion/
"Yo, I'mma kill Trell the next time/
His ex come round and he funny actin’"/
OUTRO
Aye real quick
Google: "Florida woman ain't tryna be a star
Cause it ain't nothing but a ball of gas"
"Florida woman put her right hand to God
And that's why this track slap"
Get it? Cause me and God's hand met in the sky
Like a-
You got it