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Redneck Souljers

Tiller Gang

 

Tiller Gang


Redneck Souljers, 'bout to tell y'all how to till boe
Yeah, 'bout to give it up
'Cause I'm drunker than hell, 'bout to till the yard up
Where the hell my troy belt at? Off my Natty ass too damnit boy
Tarr get that rear tight on, let's get this garden going

Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
And you know I'm repping Tiller, on my way from Idaho
You know I'm digging taters, ain't fooling with cherries, no
We only get big 'maters and we till it up so you know we don't need no gang ho
'Cause we Tiller Gang boe

Got my wallet, left my house, bought a rear tine
Old model troy belt will till it just fine
Twenty foot wide, hell I'm tilling everywhere
Camo hat, keep the dirt up out my damn hair
They love me in the co-op with my shit boots
Me and all my tillers pulling up the best roots
Sassafras grass from the south east
Oh you down to till? Buddy, foller me
Moonshine in my veins I'm swerving out my lanes
Plowing up my crops bitch I'm repping Tiller Gang
Drink 'til I'm insane hope this shine ain't blowing up
Only jars if you tiller baby hold 'em up
High boots, big shucks, Fatt Tarr, Redneck Souljers and you know it's us
That green and yellow pulls up
Them boys ain't no count so they ain't close to us
We till a hundred plot son, you know what's up

Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
And you know I'm repping Tiller, on my way from Idaho
You know I'm digging taters, ain't fooling with cherries, no
We only get big 'maters and we till it up
So you know we don't need no gang ho
'Cause we Tiller Gang boe

Struck a well like [?] I'm rich boe
All my tillers down to plow we get the job done
Killing acres in the field til they can't twirl
I'm the boss and my bitch look like a hooters girl
Matter of fact I talk shit 'cause I'm slick as [?]
On the real we on the HD color
All my hats are different colors
All I do is use 'em once and hand 'em off to my brother
John Deere, power steer
Run this field no sweat (Hell nah)
Big kill, gon' till the best
Throw your corn at what you smoke when you flickin them lighters
Till recognize till and my boy you a slicker
Got a glass full of shine but shack full of liquor
A shed full of hoes and a gang full of tillers

Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
And you know I'm repping Tiller, on my way from Idaho
You know I'm digging taters, ain't fooling with cherries, no
We only get big 'maters and we till it up
So you know we don't need no gang ho
'Cause we Tiller Gang boe

C-Hubb from that Tiller Gang
I voted for John McCain
John McCain, I done told you my damn name
C (Who?) Hubb (Woo!)
Look at all the dirt these tillers moved
Tilling all the rows with you know who
It's Tiller Gang, we fishing sleuths
Cussing fighting (Dang shine)
Fussing, rappin (Dang shine)
Tell us Hubb (Dang shine)
'Bout Tiller Gang (Hang tight)
Wait a minuet gotta finish up the last row
So I can put the tiller up and get my bass boat
We can take 'er out with the Tiller Gang boe
No women, no kids just take it slow
Five horse power, long life
Till four hours, hell all night
Turn them tillers on and grab yourself a jar
Husqvarna [?] will till this whole yard
Southern women love us hell the fellows too
If you ain't heard of us well son-bitch you will soon
What up boy we doing big things
Redneck Souljers and you know we repping Tiller Gang

Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
Tiller Gang
And you know I'm repping Tiller, on my way from Idaho
You know I'm digging taters, ain't fooling with cherries, no
We only get big 'maters and we till it up
So you know we don't need no gang ho
'Cause we Tiller Gang ho

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