[Intro]
Church
We kickin' it old school today motherfucker

[Verse]
Man fuck hip-hop in the back of a pickup
With the dome light on blow job full of hiccups
I'ma smash Waffle House, I ain't even gon' tip 'em
'Cause the Ville hella nasty, parkin' lot look like a meetup
And the server got no gloves, bitches yellin' in the booth
'Cause they hit the strip all night like Lito when he on that Goose
Metro Boomin on second I paid to park at the Hooters
And all the knee caps were short dudes ridin' electrical scooters
Yeah, I am no thug, I never sold a drug
Know nothin' 'bout a plug unless it's for my heater bro
You'll need a 40 foot ladder, some indestructible scaffold's
A roller pole set up the sides of both the fuckin' twin towers
To even touch me
Even then I blow a kiss and it's disaster
I mail voodoo dolls to haters then I go and grab the magic
Put your head inside a cauldron then I whip it in the kitchen
Like a witch up in the Bayou spellcastin' and frog giggin'
Nah I'm just kiddin', or maybe I'm not
No bullshit on my lily pad I'm consumin' the lightenin' bug
To see the trenches on my path filled with logical lighters
If you ain't got the matches don't threaten me with the starter fire
'Cause I'ma grab the flame thrower steal the fuel from every Petro
Set the fire to rain like that old ass Adele song
Like Dude Where's My Car? Ashton Kutcher pass the bong
Yo your sitcom looks exactly like my motherfuckin' farm, bro
I turn it to a artist who goes to sleep and dreams of lucid things
I wake up show the world from four to 3D on the TV screen
Country boy slick, I ain't even gotta yodel
Still go to Wally World, but only as a stoner
Yeah, my bitch a Puerto Rican so you know she cooks that gumbo
I don't Netflix and chill, I loadin' screen and bend her over
I'm puff passin' on that clover, she get brain up in my Rover
Got 200 on the dash I'm Dwayne "The Rock" Upchurch
Hooligan with a Cowl hood, look like shit but I smell good
I'm fast and I'm furious, but right now I'm just chillin' man
I talk shit 'bout spittin' bars, while I do a really long handstand
You can call me an asshole but that's not what my ass said
I rap for real reasons the game has some wack assets
I stay runnin' the track complete your half fat ass prints
I root for my team no glitter glue or fag hashtag
Don't compare me to no one but one day I'll be a rap dad
Mind of a computer appetite just like a hyper-beast
Don't walk a trail of happy feet, yeah they're cold but also weak
I polarize the streets like a polar bear off the leash
I am what I said I was so here's this fuck you to your face
My last track was so bad I had to load it on Pornhub
Had a thousand likes and the comments said "Hard bruh"
Skeet-skeet motherfucker like a club in on two
Impala steady bumpin' whatcha-whatcha gonna do?
I'ma act a damn fool whatcha think I'm gonna do
On some Nashville shit, party 'til your poop scoop
Down on Broadway with a cowboy hat bedazzled back to back
That your ass stole from a fuckin' gas station rack
Bud Light gon' get you end up with that metro noise
Streets crawin' and "Hey y'allin'" with them redneck boys
Oh I'm not talkin' 'bout nothin' right, I don't flow or even rhyme tight
Bitch you're mad that I'm whiter than white and I fuckin' spit spikes
I dress like a bum but I still drive a Lamborghini
Every chick who ever dumped me prolly wishin' that they didn't
Yeah, back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot they all on me
Back then I was a laughin' stock and now I am that honkey
Now I am that froggy, now I am pissed off
Know a couple folks gettin' bitch smacked when I walk up in the Tin Roof
Like the good ol' days Jay Cox and T. McCoy
Y'all had the whole sidewalk yellin' shit, "Worldstar"
I'm used to be in the nights when findin' him is not likely
Fuck a hater 'til he has my babies and they look like me
I say what I wanna say 'cause nobody gonna say it for me
Son I'm TriStar raised what the hell you expect homie?
It was creek beds, brunettes, five nines, paychecks
Six pack, one phone, searchin' for a little hometown honey
Let's go blow my truck up get it in the mud and waste my money
Fuck it, it came off Craigslist for like five hundie
Yeah, you and me go fishin' in the dark
Lyin' in the grass and smokin' a log
Just put your perfume on before I take you to the steps
If your dad asks it ain't my fault you smell like Aerosmith (Church)
[Outro]
Dixieland, Di-Di-Di-Dixieland
Ayy, you can roll one up but I'ma smoke you out
Dixieland, Di-Di-Di-Dixieland
Ayy, you can roll one up but I'ma smoke you out
Church, Church, Church
Stone baby Stone biotch