Yung Teddy - Country Trap (Prod. by Yung Teddy) lyrics

[Verse 1: Cool Carl] From ATL to Thomasten, you know we all country But one thing that's in common is we keep the trap bunkin' Some of us finished school but we wasn't tryna learn nothin' Just a ign'ant a** n***a throw his dirt out in the public See ratchet mean real so I ain't tryna keep it tighted A bad attitude n***a, f** you if you don't like me My b**h get outta line, imma check that hoe like some nike's And tell 'em f** a blank gimme 6 months right here on right street I try to keep it kosher, but that's just the way that I'm ill A bottle for my sorrows everyday just how I live I drink away my problems and I smoke away my defects In the hood I'm like the man but to the whites I'm just a reject So imma set my bridges just like the face skin of Regis So you can kiss my a** every time you tell me you see it Got a platinum rap written that's way too faded to see it You can find my country a** on sight of the house pen Chorus: All my life all I wanted was this Give a f** about the fame, more concerned with bein' rich Smoke a lotta loud, couple hoes on my dick So I'm truly satisfied with this country trap sh** (x2) [Verse 2: Yung Bubba] My name is yung bubba, imma country writin trapper I get 'em from outta town then I bust em from out the raptor My wife's a didder too so all you gotta do is ask her Everybody smokes weed, I even sent it to my pastor The police kick my dust so I stash them things over yonder Cocaine, pills, even the marijuaner Sometimes I even ponder Will they come cut me like sushi I ain't a Fat white redneck whose favorite rapper is Gucci 30 on my teeth, got my denims Lookin' like brand new Chewin' on tobacco then after I'd eat some cashews Workin' up my wrist, got me stackin' up outta hella cream I got that from the colors but I don't know what the hell it mean But I ain't never quit and I'm makin' too much money I got like 30 kids, what I look like some type of dummy Shout outs to young perry, he really gave me a chance f** these overalls, I'm finna go buy me some Gucci pants Chorus: All my life all I wanted was this Give a f** about the fame, more concerned with bein' rich Smoke a lotta loud, couple hoes on my dick So I'm truly satisfied with this country trap sh** (x2)