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Upchurch

Golden God (Remix)

 

Golden God (Remix)


Yeah buddy
What's up YouTube
Ain't done a remix in a minute
Church, ha ha
So I figured I'd hop up in this bitch today
Hey thanks Stoner, thanks Trav
Church

I bet they prolly wish I'd go ahead and stop it
Half it popping half of Davy Crockett
Always got a buck knife tucked away up in my pocket
And when I click the pen I take off like a rocket
Never had a prob' with writer's block or nothing
Grew up in a place where everyone went hunting
But I ain't looking for no deer cracker
I got my eyes up on the throne I'm about to be owning
Camouflage jacket looking like a prince
Hair look like I sleep up underneath a bridge
Hand full of rings and that ain't for no looks
That's just in case I got to throw a couple hooks
They said I couldn't now I'm in the mirror cheesing
Laughing at the folks who would never believe it
Asking for their tickets to the local shows
Sorry they sold out like last week bro
And I be spraying beer like Stone Cold in the 90's
Always in the spot where you won't ever find me
I ain't Ricky Bobby ain't no one behind me
Made a name without a label having to sign me
They ask me why I'm cocky I tell em' cause I can
Stunting in my high school reunion in a Lam
My teacher's yearly compensation sitting in the parking lot out front so tell em' what it is

I don't give a fuck what no one says
My dream was always floating over top by bed
And these lights on the stage make me feel like home
I ain't a God I'm just a peasant, yeah, that stole the kings throne

I ain't a God I ain't a God, I'm just another one of that man's daily great creations
I stay burning mothafuckas up like my job is handling every day cremations
Ashes on my shirt I'm face to face with flames, roll another blunt when Rolling Stoned is played
I be rolling in a fucking motorcade, Super Swampers on the fucking Escalade
Clean cut like Bruce Wayne, all blacked out like CIA
So many rounds when I'm traveling shows, you'd think I brought the fucking NRA
I'm the ice man I write Chuck Liddells, go ahead flip the page I got shit to say
Got bitch I'm busy on my studio door 'cause when it comes to rap I don't fucking play
Yeah I'm country as a baton black and tan, redneck like I'm living in a hot summer
Have a bunch of fine ass Dixie chicks hanging out the windows of my jacked up hauler
Boot clicking like Garth Brooks, lifestyle looking like John Denver
If I don't make it to the Hall of Fame, then fuck 'em all I'll still be remembered

I don't give a fuck what no one says
My dream was always floating over top by bed
And these lights on the stage make me feel like home
I ain't a God I'm just a peasant, yeah, that stole the kings throne

Y'all already know I ain't nobody special son, listen
Y'all want me to remix something let me know what it is in the comments aight
Fucking love you guys
Thanks for the half million subscribers I love y'all
See y'all later

Yeah
That stole the kings throne

fait

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