The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
What you think we live on a farm? Nigga be for real!
We got Benz's Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville's
Got a green S-Class, ain't broke the door seal
Shit ain't been the same since I signed Fo' Reel
This shit got ill, when I hit 4 mill
Five and counting, dirty six at will
Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide
I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9
I hear 'em crying, "You gon' sell out?" Ya damn right!
I done sold out before and re-comped the same night
Straight hopped the next flight, too icey for sunlight
Dunkin' without Sprite, yea you heard me dirty
I'm from the Show-Me State, show me seven I'll show you eight
Carats in one ring, heavily starched jeans
Representin St. Louis everytime I breathe
In the city I touch down and I bob and weave, ay
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
I sport my beeper on my boots, that's why I be a buzz when I kick
Maybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spit
Quarter man, quarter schoolboy, half Lunatic
Quarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' chick
Keep a quarter of some sheeeiit, I'm the Pooky of the backyard
All colors and all types like a junkyard
Hot young boy with hot young ways
'Cause I connect three blunts and be high for three days
You can tell by the way I walk I ain't from 'round hurr
Probably couldn't tell 'cause I ain't walkin' nowhere
I got a old-school Cutlass, with a hole in the air
TV's everywhere wood grain to steer (stare)
I don't care, hell naw I ain't cuttin' my hair
Ten and a half in them Airforce 1's, gimme two pair ugh
I'm from the Lou' and what I do is a Lou' thang
One rapper, two rings and three chains
Me and Murph' some ole country boys that ride V-12 horses
Saddle up and put spurs on my Airforce's
Back porches made for hide and go seek
We got space out hurr, we can ride and chief
Ain't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' us
By the time they catchin' up, we smoked it up
And my eyes be red, my lips a lil' dark
The Lou is more than the Rams, Cards and lil' Arch
My dirty's love to spark, and love to sparkle
Love, on me Vokal coats with matchin' cargo
We racin' down Skinker, see how fast our car go
Granny be like "Ay-yi-yi" like Ricky Ricardo
I know you wanna know why we do what we do
You cats ain't got a clue why the Cutlass blue
Brand new twenty-two's on new UV's
With one, two, three, four, five TV's
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin' a hood rhyme
Waitin' on my connect to deliver that good line
Wish I would find, one seed in my weed
Sticks and shit, if I do somebody bleed
Pull right here, eight pounds of Chinamen
Two stay hittin' some blunts and Heineken
Hidin' in the back was the popos
Kicked in my do'do', man they some ho ho's
They put the gun to my ear, you know the Lord don't fear
Nann nigga, nann ho, let's keep that bullshit clear
They had me face down in the skreet
Errbody watchin', thinkin' I'ma pull the heat
And leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreet
And that, pussy ass nigga that set me up my peeps
Gon' give it to this nigga like NYPD
Beat the case, fuck coke, now I'm back on my granny porch hustlin'
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang y'all
It's a Midwest swang, y'all
It's a Midwest thang
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
What you think we live on a farm? Nigga be for real!
We got Benz's Rovers' and Jag's, Hummer's and Deville's
Got a green S-Class, ain't broke the door seal
Shit ain't been the same since I signed Fo' Reel
This shit got ill, when I hit 4 mill
Five and counting, dirty six at will
Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide
I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9
I hear 'em crying, "You gon' sell out?" Ya damn right!
I done sold out before and re-comped the same night
Straight hopped the next flight, too icey for sunlight
Dunkin' without Sprite, yea you heard me dirty
I'm from the Show-Me State, show me seven I'll show you eight
Carats in one ring, heavily starched jeans
Representin St. Louis everytime I breathe
In the city I touch down and I bob and weave, ay
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
I sport my beeper on my boots, that's why I be a buzz when I kick
Maybe it's on my lips, it's chaos when I spit
Quarter man, quarter schoolboy, half Lunatic
Quarter rubber, quarter dick, other half in yo' chick
Keep a quarter of some sheeeiit, I'm the Pooky of the backyard
All colors and all types like a junkyard
Hot young boy with hot young ways
'Cause I connect three blunts and be high for three days
You can tell by the way I walk I ain't from 'round hurr
Probably couldn't tell 'cause I ain't walkin' nowhere
I got a old-school Cutlass, with a hole in the air
TV's everywhere wood grain to steer (stare)
I don't care, hell naw I ain't cuttin' my hair
Ten and a half in them Airforce 1's, gimme two pair ugh
I'm from the Lou' and what I do is a Lou' thang
One rapper, two rings and three chains
Me and Murph' some ole country boys that ride V-12 horses
Saddle up and put spurs on my Airforce's
Back porches made for hide and go seek
We got space out hurr, we can ride and chief
Ain't gotta worry 'bout nobody approachin' us
By the time they catchin' up, we smoked it up
And my eyes be red, my lips a lil' dark
The Lou is more than the Rams, Cards and lil' Arch
My dirty's love to spark, and love to sparkle
Love, on me Vokal coats with matchin' cargo
We racin' down Skinker, see how fast our car go
Granny be like "Ay-yi-yi" like Ricky Ricardo
I know you wanna know why we do what we do
You cats ain't got a clue why the Cutlass blue
Brand new twenty-two's on new UV's
With one, two, three, four, five TV's
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang
I'm sittin' on the front porch, writin' a hood rhyme
Waitin' on my connect to deliver that good line
Wish I would find, one seed in my weed
Sticks and shit, if I do somebody bleed
Pull right here, eight pounds of Chinamen
Two stay hittin' some blunts and Heineken
Hidin' in the back was the popos
Kicked in my do'do', man they some ho ho's
They put the gun to my ear, you know the Lord don't fear
Nann nigga, nann ho, let's keep that bullshit clear
They had me face down in the skreet
Errbody watchin', thinkin' I'ma pull the heat
And leave the D-tects with a leak in the skreet
And that, pussy ass nigga that set me up my peeps
Gon' give it to this nigga like NYPD
Beat the case, fuck coke, now I'm back on my granny porch hustlin'
It's a Midwest thang, y'all and they ain't got a clue (they ain't got a clue)
Why my Cutlass blue
And I got them thangs on that muh'fucker too
It's a Midwest swang, y'all and they ain't gotta trip (they ain't gotta trip)
While we swing and dip
'Cause we keep that thang on our muh'fuckin hip
It's a Midwest thang y'all
It's a Midwest swang, y'all
It's a Midwest thang
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Finally, the midwest gets some props! It's about time. Much luv to Nelly and the STLunatics!