Lyrics:
Uh, uh
I got that real good, feel good stuff
Up under the seat of my big black jacked up truck
Rollin' on thirty-fives
Pretty girl by my side
damn sure make it right
It's the shirt off your back, when you're barely getting by
It's being who you are cause you just can't hide
Country, Boy
It
It's just me and you
Yo momma and yo cousin
Used to heat the house up
By opening the oven
Everybody think that the money just been flooding
Cause
in the wind every time I roll by
Mud is flying off from the sides
We just some country boys cruising down a one lane road
Singing country boys can
Look, they said I can't get him hit; call me Obama; yes we can
Pulling up mans here make man disappear best call him Maddeline McCan
My boy Elz like
In the black bucket hearse with the rusty grill a chrome
Pickin' up the homies, we get em one by one
If you ain't psychopathic ryda boy you cannot
B-boy, where the fuck you at?
I been looking for you're ass since a quarter past.
Hot peas and butter, baby, come and get your supper
Before I make
Snatch all the honey from your honeycomb
Now the bees keep flyin' by me
I'm on that piff, that potty
That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from
Whoa
All this money comin' fast, I can't find nowhere to stash it
Lil' mama ass fat, huh, I can't wait to smash it
Chokers on my neck boy, yeah
One, spending my day sweating It's a long one, sitting by the fire
Drinking a cold one
Country, I'm a country boy living that life, working in the sun
It'll be a cold ass day in hell
'Fore I let this boy try to play with me
Give a fuck if yo name ring bells
I'll take ya out
And that's all by my damn
Boy we bubbling, ooh
Take a peep at the suds
Them boys was stumbling, mann
I had to pray for the bruhs
But now we coming up, yeah
They wanna be one
Uh, uh
I got that real good, feel good stuff
Up under the seat of my big black jacked up truck
Rollin' on thirty-fives
Pretty girl by my side
spend major loot on khaki suits
Nikes and kroker-saks to sweat suits, and leather boots
I box niggas twice my size, I bust wit' a fo'-five
Lick you up
boots and a woman who
Shoots everytime you shuffle out
The stage door and darling Jesse
Do you know what it's all for? Ah Jesse
Your manager brought by
mein Herz ist aus Blei (aus Blei)
Display Stand-by und ich wart', bis du schreibst
Vielleicht ist es falsch (mh), ich sag' es auch kei'm
Bad boys
that man
Yeah, I want my boots to be the kind that you would wanna grow into
My world changed by God's grace the day you were born
That's why daddy
like, oh, come on
Get the fuck from 'round me, boy, you wheezin', you got Omicron
His wife gettin' railed by a Jew, better yet, a Hasad
I'll pull up
with the boys and such
Oh, oh, we won't go
Back to the room where we sold our souls
Oh, oh, we won't go oh, oh, boots and bros
Down with the shrine
non-existent bitches missin'
I gave it Robert Rudolf
Or Puss in boots with his boots off
I had a new boss
Check the southern slang boy gotta troop drawn
to ride
Roll up your bed rolls and jump in your boots
Daylight is a-wastin', boys, it's out of the shoots"
Come on and ride, cowboy, ride
Roll up your
they'll be singing in the town
When the boys of Killybegs come rolling home
There is purple on the hills and there's green down by the shore
Hey,
Me and you like and Batman and robin
Always kept you by my side
Gallery jeans like fuck wearing robins
Ksubis on when I'm getting fly
Balenci
I'll still lie
Yeah, please don't waste my time
Yeah, my boy he be smokin' dope, my bitch she do lines
Get them racks by yourself huh bitch, DIY
And my
_(cropped).jpg/229px-Little_Boots_01_26_2018_-3_(25273793597)_(cropped).jpg "Little Boots")
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