Son Of The South
(专辑: Son Of The South - 2017)
Yeah I'm the
son of the
south, blood crimson red Blue jeans faded with the
grease-stained hands Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I
am Don't come over here disrespecting my homeland My homeland, yeah Yeah, when the
shit goes down I'll be somewhere with a
hundred thousand no shot rounds With a
railroad car coming up in the
ground With a
barbed wire fence wrapped all the
way around my house Four wheelers, dirt bikes 80 mile high rise Snipers spitting beech nut from a
hill-top rise Yeah, motherfucker, everybody's on my team Bikers, OGs, Klan members and the
police And everybody's still bickering about what's on the
news And they do this shit on purpose, you ain't even got a
clue White lives, black lives, and the
blue matter too So point your gun across the
sea and let's just stand as a
group 'Cause they got people tryna kill us 'cause our fucking beliefs And towelheads in the
subway with a
bomb in their briefs So let's cut the
bullshit and stand for all our people And cut some motherfucking throats, let them bleed till we're even Yeah I'm the
son of the
south, blood crimson red Blue jeans faded with the
grease-stained hands Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I
am Don't come over here disrespecting my homeland My homeland, yeah Thunderbird running, I'm the
man behind the
curtain Got a
"Fuck you, I
don't even know you" attitude for certain I'm just tryna find my purpose while the
vultures fly around my head Telling me the
things I
can do to go and prove myself Friends falling off of the
face of the
Earth 'Cause they don't know how to act that I
made myself some I'm unity busting southern motherfucker for real And I
live by the
home flag, die by the
steel Gun powder and kerosene, grenades and pride And if you tryna harm my country then you in for a
ride And we don't bury you bitches we just throw you up in the
fire That's the
smell of sweet freedom, USA till I
die Yeah I'm the
son of the
south, blood crimson red Blue jeans faded with the
grease-stained hands Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I
am Don't come over here disrespecting my homeland My homeland, yeah My homeland, my homeland, my homeland My homeland Yeah I'm the
son of the
south, blood crimson red Blue jeans faded with the
grease-stained hands Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I
am Don't come over here disrespecting my homeland My homeland, my homeland