Country Roads

(álbum: Hillbilly Hustle - 2013)

Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong
West Virginia, mountain mamma
Take me home, country roads

It was 4:20 Four 304 Seven Six
Another white trailer park kid was thrown in the mix
Class clown, but head down, as I'd walk through the hall
All the kids would call me n cuz I could rhyme and play ball
But stand tall, Daddy said never lay your head low
Summer fishing with my Pap in a Winnebago
Times were tough, but we made ends meet
Momma working miracles just so we could eat
Always getting picked on, was the smallest in my class
Till I stood up to the bully and whooped that kid's ass
Daddy, what's a food stamp and what's white trash?
Mr. Jones hit his wife, but I was too scared to ask
It's crazy when you think back, which memories last
Just a West Virginia boy and a little of my past
Bittersweet when I look back, the emotion it brings
I remember Momma rocking me to sleep and she would sing

Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong
West Virginia, mountain mamma
Take me home, country roads

I'm 18 now and I'm free at last
But got a problem with a bottle and I'm falling fast
Like self-destruction was the kid's only mission
I did a lot of things that wasn't really Christian
Wrong habits, wrong crowd, a lot of things I ain't too proud
Basically a wild child, drunk and high, screaming loud
Hustling, dealing, robbing, stealing, things that left my conscious reeling
Alcoholic, I'm still healing, some of y'all know the feeling
Play with fire you get burned, a lesson that I never learned
Eventually they called the law, what they seen, what they saw
Behind the bars, I did it ma... collect call to Grandpa
A judge with a grudge and the man wouldn't budge
When all was said and done, it was a 3 year sentence
I'm praying in my cell begging Jesus for repentance
Paying for the wrong path that Jason Mallas chose
Now I'm staring through these bars and I'm really missing those

Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong
West Virginia, mountain mamma
Take me home, country roads

Now I had to get sober and get right with the Lord
Rapping on the porch, that where Mini Thin was born
Won every major battle, next to Jay-Z on a stage
Called 50 Cent a punk in front of thousands in a rage
The vultures start calling, signed the dotted line
You should be this and that, here's how you should rhyme
Package me as a product, white boy that did time
Thousand people in my ear and I nearly lost my mind
I kept on speaking, no one listened to a word
Last straw was when they said to say that I'm from Pittsburgh
I put down the mic for 2 years and didn't care
It wasn't about music, than a burden to bare
But my conscious wasn't right, cuz my people need a voice
Knew what I had to do and I didn't have a choice
I picked it back up, West Virginia do or die
I can't live without music so I represent my

Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong
West Virginia, mountain mamma
Take me home, country roads