Fire Man (Remix)

Church
We kicking it old school today motherfucker

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, parking lot look like a meetup
And the server got no gloves, bitches yelling in the booth
'Cause they hit the strip all night like Lito when he on that Goose
Metro booming on second I paid to park at the Hooters
And all the knee caps on short dudes riding electrical scooters
Yeah, I am no thug, I never sold a drug
Know nothing '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 fucking 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 spellcasting and frog gigging
Nah I'm just kidding, or maybe I'm not
No bullshit on my lily pad I'm consuming the lightening 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 start a 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 motherfucking farm, bro
I turn it to a artist who goes to sleep and dreams of lucid things
I wake up show the world for for the 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 loading screen and bend her over
I'm puff passing 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 chilling man
I talk shit 'bout spitting 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 running 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 commies said "Hard bruh"
Skeet-skeet motherfucker like a club in on two
Impala steady bumping whatcha-whatcha gonna do?
I'ma act a damn full whatcha think I'm gonna do
On some Nashville shit, party 'til your poops scoop
Down on Broadway with a cowboy hat bedazzled back to back
That your ass stole from a fucking gas station rack
Bud Light don't get you end up with that metro noise
Streets crawing and "Hey y'allin'" with them redneck boys
Oh I'm not talking 'bout nothing right, I don't flow or even rhyme tight
Bitch you're mad that I'm whiter than white and I fucking spit spikes
I dress like a bum but I still drive a Lamborghini
Every chick who ever dumped me prolly wishing 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 laughing stock and now I am that honkey
Now I am that froggy, now I am pissed off
Know a couple folks getting 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 yelling shit, "Worldstar"
I'm used to be in the nights when finding 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 tri-star raised what the hell you expect homie?
It was quick beds, brunettes, five nines, paychecks
Six pack, one phone, searching 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 fishing in the dark
Lying in the grass and smoking 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)

Dixie land, Dixie-Dixie land
Ayy, you can roll one up but I'ma smoke you out
Dixie land, Dixie-Dixie land
Ayy, you can roll one up but I'ma smoke you out
Church, Church, Church
Stone baby Stone biotch