(Let the band play)
Yeah they call me a cousin f**er they got some sh**ty insults
Can’t match me on a track because I think they smoking bath salts
Just laying on that a** while looking dingy and cracked out
These
[?] whistling Dixie, I run it in the south
sh** I’m the Connor McGregor of country rap that is evident
I f** around and get high and release a album by accident
The more sh** I put out the more haters become irrelevant
I’m spitting f**ing flames and don’t need kerosene to make it lit
sh** I ain’t even in LA and I’m starting to build island
One true convincer in my jungle where I hang out with
[?]
And I ain’t even went hard ’cause ain’t nobody made outrate
My voltage at a 3, don’t make it crank high 8
Pissing off my competition but you won’t hear me go diss ’em
‘Cause it ain’t gon’ benefit me unless their fanbase is a million
I spit .45 rounds up in my sleeve got
[?] up in my
[?]
My pillow soaked in black as my saliva’s diamondback venom
Yeah I could be at your feet
And you wouldn’t even f**ing know ’cause you all playing the creep, son
All I hear is some songs about trucks y’all don’t drive
With some verses ’bout hot girls you ain’t got in real life
I hear ya blowing black smoke but you don’t even own a diesel
I hear you’re country as they come but you ain’t hanging with my people
So put your camouflage on, take a picture with some wheels
Act like you’re working hard when you ain’t even got deals
And don’t ask me for a feature, we do it different in the hills
Yeah, we some rednecks for real
Man I looked up to artists that turned out to be some jokes
That’s why I’m high strung like a two-stroke with a put out choke
Yeah wing-wing on that Yamaha, chromed out 11
[?]
So many punchlines on my album my front cover is a band aid, ho
Anybody who wants these flames need to purchase f**ing solar
[?]
I’ll burn you like a drug
[?] trying to sell your a** some propane
I’m dumping stolen coal through these swampy southern states
Hauling ten tonnes of a** in this f**ing Church train
Blowing smoke through the sky yeah baby I’m that guy
Calling motherf**ers out but their numbers don’t climb
‘Cause I won’t ever say their name even if they try to bait me
I’m a pro with this sh** these guys sound like they still in training
Ain’t got no living, ain’t half of the sh** they’re sh**
And people wonder why I jump in the pits, stay slaying
All I hear is some songs about trucks y’all don’t drive
With some verses ’bout hot girls you ain’t got in real life
I hear ya blowing black smoke but you don’t even own a diesel
I hear you’re country as they come but you ain’t hanging with my people
So put your camouflage on, take a picture with some wheels
Act like you’re working hard when you ain’t even got deals
And don’t ask me for a feature, we do it different in the hills
Yeah, we some rednecks for real