album cover
STR8 OUTTA MEMPHIS
Dirty South
STR8 OUTTA MEMPHIS was released on May 17, 2025 by LostForever Sounds as a part of the album STR8 OUTTA MEMPHIS - Single
album cover
Release DateMay 17, 2025
LabelLostForever Sounds
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM70

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Miko517
Miko517
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Young
Michael Young
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Niqosstudio
Niqosstudio
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Yea, Miko517 in this mudafucka, ya know what I'm sayin'
Bitch I'm straight from da M-Town
This how it get down down here
Grew up in that jungle, I ain't fold, I snapped
Unc dipped out, left a Glock and a trap
Auntie prayed hard, but I still got jacked
I was thuggin' too early with hate on my back
Roaches crawled while I wrote out pain
Blood on the floor, I was numb in the brain
All black hoodie like fuck the fame
Now it's bands in the bag when I board that plane
I don't do flaugin', that's ho shit, straight
Say the wrong thing, get shot in the face
Bitch, I was broke, couldn't eat off the plate
Now I'm up talkin' numbers with lawyers and weight
I was that kid with a stick in the drawer
Not a school supply—had to up it for war
Bitch played sweet, now she down on all four
I don't show love, I just double the score
**** talk slick, I'll crash his show
Slide through the back with a mask and pole
Ain't no warning, I just let shit blow
Brains on the wall like a Banksy, ho
I done seen mamas get stripped for rock
Sons get popped with they mama's Glock
Seen a bitch set up her own blood for knots
Now I keep my head down low and plot
I don't play games, I play for keeps
Fuck a rapper, I'm a wolf in beats
I was raised by dealers and killas and freaks
Used to hear gunshots when I brushed my teeth
****, this real, ain't no metaphor shit
I done held steel with a suicide grip
I done cut ties with a blade and a trip
And I still might tweak if the tension flip
I stomped out a **** for bumpin' my name
He done slipped at the corner, put that pistol to his brain
Ain't no talkin' when it's beef, I just line up aim
Turn a preacher to a victim in a drive-by frame
You was tweetin' on yo phone, I was loaded and hurt
You was cappin' in yo captions, I was down in the dirt
I was sleepin' with a chop in my hoodie and shirt
If a fuckboy flinch, he gon' leave in a hearse
I ain't signin' no deals, I need bricks and perks
Need land, need straps, need revenge to work
Need 10 bad bitches in a room with a clerk
One for the mind and the rest for the thirst
I'm tryna stack Ben Franks ****, fuck the games
Why these broke-ass **** don't like gettin' paid?
Rather beef online, post guns, then fade
Bitch, I want money and power, not praise
Say you gangsta? Better die for that post
Say you outside? Better ride with a ghost
I was in the field with a blade and a toast
You was in the house tryna dance for the hoes
I don't want peace, bitch, I want revenge
I don't do hugs, I do blood and sins
Say the wrong word, I'ma lift that FN
Now your whole block lit like a festival tent
I came from nothin', now I flex like Satan
Heart so cold, it don't need no maintenance
Whole lotta pain, but I never wrote statements
Still ten toes when the beef get flagrant
I don't talk love, I just talk my shit
Don't say my name if you not gone hit
Whole lotta trauma in the way I spit
If I ever go broke, I'ma rob that lick
I still see demons when I blink too long
I still hear screams when the lights cut on
I still hear "fuck you" in that family song
I still get chills when I ride back home
This for the **** who ain't had no help
This for the nights I was locked in that self
This for the pain I talk to myself
Now I turn that shit to a general wealth
Shit I mean generational but ya know what I'm sayin'
Keep it like that, uh, Miko
I'm straight out that M-Town mane
Ight this shit over with
Written by: Michael Young
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