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Upchurch

Me Ok

 

Me Ok


Church
Hey shoutout DuaneTV
Shoutout Knox Hill
Shoutout HollaAtKrazy
I'ma fit all of y'all in this mug one day
Church
Listen to this track b-bitch

I ain't the regular, peep my appearance it's evident
My data is prevalent, still remain relevant
Never civil just like a damn Confederate
Can't even say hey y'all in a song without somebody saying my rhymes are rhetoric
Damn, who you tryna throw off? Not me, I got a level head
Not to mention I'm dropping these bitches and holding every little bit of my leverage
And when I drop the rope these bottom feeders gonna die looking dried out and desperate
Who the fuck said I can't rap? Shut up bitch, you deaf as shit
Church all I do is preach, I'll retire and become a fucking reverend
Nope, I am not a God! Yes, fame is a facade
Maybe I should watch what I say before I end up dead in my own yard
Sight, point, aim, fire! Reload, again for the second time
I'm underground and untouchable like a war bunker in a hillside
Been rolling stoned since "Rolling Stoned" so now my brains like fully blown
These irises inside my eyes are surrounding two big black holes
Stay popping out of that underground and loving the game like Whac-A-Mole
Last time I grabbed the hammer I hammered down on a haters soul
I'm diamond cut from a rock that looks oddly different
The only reason you point is well, look at me, I'm indigenous
People like "Stop it, stick to country", I ride beats so good they fuck me
I go hard, spit out rap babies, no Plan B or Trojans on me
I make studios inferno, smell that Stetson wood and marble
Lieutenant Dan opponents legs 'cause I'm one they will not walk on
Bitch I run it in the forest, you can bet a pretty Jenny
I spit so much Bubba Gump, my saliva's shrimp boats with me
Fuck being cold, I'm frostbit, if rap's a sport I'm offense
If rap's a jail I jump fence, if mainstream's cops I dodge shit
And every dog has its day, they don't want to hear me bark kid
So I'm just sneaking on the porch delivering the dog shit
Ears up like a German Shepherd, put a buck shot in your spinal cord
Looking like the Soggy Bottom Boys found Kevin Gates and an AUX cord
Yeah, Upchurch down here Lord, I realize what I am here for
I'm about to write the biggest mass murder and not even go to hell for it
I'm a narcissistic marksman parking in darkness just watch me
Spartan kick 'em in pits of darkness 'til there's no carcass charting
So let me load up the kraken, I'm dropping 'em off
Although somebody give you a couple of acres and a stack of some coffins
So when I "blah, blah-blah-blah, blah, blah, blah, blah"
We ain't even gotta go and blood drain it or nothing
First 48, yep, that's where I learned to be murderous
Creek Squad, sup, yeah, they ain't gonna murder us
Even if I die I'll come back as a big tornado
Blow folks away with not guitar or cello
Just take the papers, be a tree head fellow
Don't cry about life, weeping willow

終わり

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