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Fix lyrics Get on dis motorcycle by Petey Pablo

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AH! (*Females voices humming*) [Petey Pablo - talking] Y´all ready .. Y´all ready .. Y´all ready .. [Verse 1 - Petey Pablo] One of the illest rhymers that ever came outta Carolina, put this whole shit on the map Went back got two states, y´all crammed way to the back and brought ´em up to the where the rest of ´em at (cause I can do that) Granddaddy was real strong, daddy was in the Army I was a bad motherfucker, slightly retarded Mentally institutionalized, since the ´85 Buildin tree houses (that the wind couldn´t blow down) Look at me now, holdin it down Doin it well, I ain´t triple platinum yet (but ain´t gon´ worry ´bout it) I´m wearin the good damn crown, man I´m the president And reppin both states (back here in Carolina) Where the hell did you find ´em? (boy is an animal) His flow is incredible, style is bananas I just wanna go to the Grammy´s and I don´t care if I win Just to say I´ve been god dammit (god dammit) [Chorus - Petey Pablo] - 2X Get on dis motorcycle Get on dis motorcycle And that way you can ride wit a ... (y´all ready) Get on dis motorcycle Get on dis motorcycle And get your hips on in the big ass truck (y´all ready) (*motorcycle engine*) [Verse 2 - Petey Pablo] On the hurl and dirt road, them big ass pot holes Lay in a - old home, lay in a - screen doors Car in the back yard, dog chain tied up Ain´t drove it in years, sittin on nothin Spit crunk mosquito buckets, hot wood heaters Hooked up Honda Accord, with house speakers Bag, phone and beeper, corduroys and sneakers Pit Spike Lee´s and them shell toe Adidas You don´t know shit ´bout Petey (Petey) Real definition of the greasy, grimy and gritty You really fittin to sellin drugs for another nigga Always lookin at me like your trigger finger itchin I give ya my best witness, when you come to handle your business You better be ready to get it, cause I don´t be bullshittin I´m up into plastic bottles cause if I keep on feelin the way I´m feelin I´ma blow up in this motherfucker [Chorus] - 2X - w/ ad libs [Verse 3 - Bubba Sparxxx] Twenty-seven dollars to my name, headed up 85 pissy drunk, Petey still made me drive Left off from LaGrange, passin through Squattenburg On the way to High Point and my speech startin to slur Better tell these sons of bitches, boy to move won´t allow for me To stop and say I´m sorry to this dude and this scout It was just a little bump, shit you dented my Ferrari Don´t call the law, shit is rented, look I´m sorry All we have done in the name of the south Gave these ugly motherfuckers somethin to "Raise Up" about But I´m still unfulfilled, since my daddy still drivin That fuckin school bus, know that Bubba still strivin I want me a label, want me a mansion Timmy can´t give it to me, Jimmy ain´t spit it to me Rest assure though, the day is approachin When these old country boys ain´t just playin, they coachin [Petey Pablo - talking] Get on dis motorcycle .. Y´all ready, get on dis motorcycle (*motorcycle engine*), y´all ready Get on dis motorcycle .. Y´all ready Get on dis motorcycle (*motorcycle engine*) HEYYY! [Chorus] - 2X (*Female voices humming and motorycle engine continues until end*)

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