Over Here
(专辑: Trunk Muzik 3 - 2019)
(Alright, let's get it) Silverado, black package Dealership didn't have time to tag it I
whipped that bitch out the
parking lot Like I
was dead broke and I
couldn't have it Uh, swipe that piece of plastic Rode around Nashville for three hours Listening to peace, waiting for the
magic Swung by the
crib, grabbed WLPWR Get the
bar, of course the
ball Valet park my brand new car Threw the
keys and when you move it, please Be careful and don't go too far Took a
second and soaked it in Couldn't wipe off my big-ass grin Look at Will, "Can you believe it, man? Just wait 'til I
get them twinny-twin-twins" That's hard work (Uh) I
had to do a
lot of yard work (Uh) I
had to pick up that white trash (Uh) So I
could bet on my bar to work (Uh) I
had to cut my own path (Uh) And do something that had never been done Alabama ain't no cakewalk (Uh) I
showed the
world how we popped that trunk And it's one shot down, two shot down, three And this old fuckboy keeps looking at me He walks up to us then offers me a
drink I
know that he wants to hang, he must think that I'm a
tree Wanna be rock and roll, he starts rambling about who he knows And where he's been and how many records he's sold With who and how and this and that And I
can't pretend to like this douchebag Even though he's got the
boost that has the
leather and the
durag The
shit he told me he wrote for so-and-so is just so, so whack Don't wanna be the
supermodel for the
clothes you wear Don't pull a
seat up 'cause you see me in my folding chair Congratulations, hope your mama's proud of what you've done But she may be the
only one 'cause From over here, you just a
bitch From over here, a
liar and thief, man From over here, you make us sick From over here, you faking to get rich Don't come over here Uh, black shot jacket, black Harley, loot cases 38 OG, creatively a
new worn baby From the G
to the A
dot D
Went from the
Creek to a
Love Story Went from a
single wide trailer to the
booth's alligator And a
highrise over the
streets Ran through the
dirty South in cleats Never lost touch, never got beat Lot of rappers talk about who's doing what Not a
single one said shit about me, now that's respect Can't buy that with a
bat or a
check, better check the
beat I
mob with kings Crown my head with a
tattoo, Slum, make sure it reads No more at sea Fuck a
message in a
bottle, deliver my words like Desperado Misfits under my umbrella I
hope these songs fulfill the
sorrow Take the
bricks so you can build tomorrow Like a
freemason, claw and arrow Free bird, a
prophet's sparrow Flying through hip-hop, rock, and metal And while that clock is ticking I
won't let a
soul living stop my vision Give me that bucket and a
mop to dip in I'll shine that floor until it's popping prisms 'Til you see the
colors of the
rainbow dancing off my Box Chevy Don't try to fill up my gas tank or my shoes, homie, you ain't ready And if imitation is flattery, uh, I
don't lack on the
flattery I
just led gatherings up in my room with the
magic Go back to my cabin and charge up my battery Don't wanna be the
supermodel for the
clothes you wear Don't pull a
seat up 'cause you see me in my folding chair Congratulations, hope your mama's proud of what you've done But she may be the
only one 'cause From over here, you just a
bitch From over here, a
liar and thief, man From over here, you make us sick From over here, you faking to get rich Don't come over here Fake fucking rockstars, don't come over here Politicians, cop cars, don't come over here Pill popping sloppy rappers, don't come over here All you motherfucking biters, don't come over here