Ghost

(álbum: Son Of The South - 2017)

Church
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Hey!

Yeah hip hop rocking to a ticking exhaust
Grab tons of creek water, copperheads at my feet
Slithering, hissing, but they ain't gonna bite me none
Rattlesnake venom dripping off the bullets in my gun
Smile kinda crooked from the tobacco up in my gum
Porch lights flickering cause the ghost feeling my buzz
Hill picking in the country, a place you'll never find
With the mean block brothers black berries on the vine
All I smell is muddy water, honeysuckles and deer meat
Cheatham county in my veins, dirty water has made me
That rebel flag junkie Mr. General E. Lee
With the voice of the mud strong heartbeat of Dixie, motherfucker

(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Where the fog meets the road
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Anywhere the nighthawk grows
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
And the trees release the ghost
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
To the ones who lost their souls
(Come in the Boondocks)
Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa

Son I'm priceless, bone stock, old Camaro
And I'm in it to be a legend, give a fuck about dinero
All my shit play when I'm 6 feet in the ground
A hundred years in the dirt, still bumping my sound
While you dancing around the fire, while you sipping that 'shine
Or tailgating with your buddies, puff passing the pines
Sipping and chilling watching the slow change of the times
Think about me every time you start that fire

(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Where the fog meets the road
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Anywhere the nighthawk grows
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
And the trees release the ghost
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
To the ones who lost their souls
(Come in the Boondocks)
Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa

Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
(Just being who I am baby come in the boondocks)
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
(Just being who I am baby come in the boondocks)

Snakeskin boots 'cause I dance on the devil
Worn country with the fetish of rapping in heavy metal
Hank Jr. and Pantera, Allison Transmission
With the chains in the back Layne Staley spinning
Doing more writing and repping the Confederate States
Until I'm down in a hole I'm the rooster man
Yeah, here I come and I'm repping for Dixie
Ain't none of you motherfuckers ever gonna evict me

(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Where the fog meets the road
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
Anywhere the nighthawk grows
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
And the trees release the ghost
(Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa)
To the ones who lost their souls

Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa

Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa