[Intro]
Upchurch
What's up motherfuckers?
Gotta knock the cobwebs off this mic
I'm about to light this XXL beat up y'all
Rednecks say what

[Verse]
Man they don't know what to think about a redneck in a Range Rove'
Get my name outta y'all's mouth or get backwoods burnt by the wood stove
And I wish a cracker would but y'all waterlogged like a Sycamore
I'm the mack daddy of this country rap surrounded by these half ass Macklemore's
And I never knock I just open doors, on the highest level I skip floors
I'm white as fuck you couldn't roast me with Graham Crackers and Hershey bars
I can't even get a cover on XXL, all I do is improve shit can't you tell
Got a IOS on my DNA, so my brain waves act like an iPhone 12
Can't even get a chance on a magazine, 'cause so many damn rappers mad at me
Hip hop lookin' like what's happenin' a gap toothed Hillbilly on savage beats
But bitch I'll stomp you to death in these cheap Walmart boots
Then scoot n' boogie on that bitch like Brooks & Dunn up in the booth
Yeah, I know this game so well, give me a microphone and a hotel
Let all my haters sleep when I write that shit that'll give them nightmares
I'm Freddy Kruger on every z rappers, let them catch them z's I guess
They gainin' weight from then Ho-Ho cakes tryna get hype lookin' like Jenny Craig
Bitch I lift weights and drink eggs, come knuckle up 'cause I bust heads
See the bad bitch in my king size, no hot yoga, I spread legs
Got a new truck with a back seat like twice the size of y'all's mom's bed
And I kill everything that I'm gettin' on, make me a Grammy outta some of that hot lead
Everybody talkin' shit behind my back, won't ever have the balls to record it on a track
'Cause they know that I run it like my legs are black, everything that I touch is warfare packed
I got enough bars to build 15 jails, go to sleep, refresh my shit
Wake up, build 15 more, like what's up you little cracker bitch
I stay gassed up like Arabs, I own every Shell and Mapco
So when a motherfucker talk about me I just light that match and watch his track blow
I gotta mad flow that I uphold with a gold soul that won't be sold
Out here we believe in Bigfoot, that's why I wake up in beast mode
I'ma semi-auto, I unload, Semper Fi [?] to my boys though
I'll bite the pen then spray the ink, like blood on an ISIS upload
'Cause I want to see my face on the cover of Rolling Stone
And I ain't talkin' 'bout that gold record I made eight months ago
'Cause I passed that like a fast lap with a guy with a white flag waves that
Doin' donuts in the Winner's Circle, just kissin' babies like a badass
And I write songs to the heartbeat of a Chevrolet but still got a Dodge
'Cause last year this is all stuff that I couldn't afford to put in my garage
Shit Kane Brown used to hang out, we'd drive around in his white Accord
Chillin' in my livin' room on Facebook recordin' country cover songs
And now he tours with FGL and I sell out shows everywhere I go
It's funny how people want to hate, hate, hate, but they ain't got no damn goal no goals
[Outro]
Church
Ha ha ha ha
Now if you will excuse me I'm about to go eat my K5 I just got from Taco Bell
And oh yeah, Kane Brown, love you bro
Hey, fuck those haters, they ain't shit
Ha ha ha ha ha
Yeah