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time we on a country road it's a bet he finna do that He said let a unlucky soul take my gas pump, I'm finna do that Unc got the morphine pump out, so
guiness on a one road business its a sin to swallow all the witness now I'm guilty by suspicion I know this shit got ya mind twisted so who I make concern
That Tom Tom get you lost here No city roads, Its dusty When the rains come You skeed skeed, so Drive slow When you get here, Don’t take nothing Go
Were all I needed to read I found myself for the first time When Montana enchanted me So get lost in the Big Sky country Where adventure calls your
All across the country men call her up to play From Tom in New York City to Steve in San Jose When she's in Miami Dave shows her a good time She has fun
I grew up with the misfits and the mutants Flip tricks in my Supras Chewin sticks of Bazooka Thick spliffs and visions of big shit in the future
voice for when I’m headlining Coachella She like the fiend and I’m the dope dealer I’m so clever I try to stay humble but my ego rebels Imaging Tom Brady
attitude like Tom Sawyer Middle finger to my previous employers Better call my goddamn lawyer Tried to fit in with the popular What a motherfucking waste
a candle for all the broken dreams Taking pictures with a smile when this life ain't what it seem Spending weeks on the road, came home, my pockets short
from dawns Embarrassed at the fact that I still want awards I told Big Sean if I got signed I would never buy a chain i bought four I lost ‘em all
I hibernate my soul On the road to riches, pray I catch a hater lacking by the light I come in peace but you know my niggas far from nice Spin
you want me) Feet on dash, dirt road like this shit country Up in the coupe, got lil’ shawty in the front seat (Got lil’ shawty in the front seat) Trash
mama) We took em 4 ounces of mid for 400 in jail a 8th go for 100 (Know I know) I be driving on the south of the country I'm taking these risks cause I
and that's all that counts I might sell my house for one that suits me more A home on wheels with a four by four Then take off down these country roads, live
now On the Short four years on my back But see it's cool They know me when they see me So they holler "Big Bun!" The nigga that don't give a fuck About
and chill cye this dat country mane real country bumkpin mane Whatever you name it getting faded If u see me wit em we prolly related Take em back
(Everything I do gon' be funky) (This is serious business) (I'm from Compton, so you should know the deal) (4x) (This is serious business)
Raised ont he good book, and out country songs Ride down back roads singing along [Chorus:]So blame me for the way the are Their love of the fiddle
don't never come fake I'm 'bout to hit Dove Way, just past Troy's I'm dippin' by myself, I'm 'bout to call up my boys I pass up the corner I see some
it's time We all thank a farmer From the blacktop roads you ran That used to be his land To big cities and small towns That he built with his two hands
walking with a solo swag You think you ballin' in that four do' Jag? Nah In Tom Fords with a MK bag? nah Give you a bird's eye view of the streets Nigga,
want your kids growin up thinkin they never had no daddy Big Pun, rest in peace forever Bronx, pour some liqour, AHHH Slang Tom, rest in peace
through, killed 'em Four by four came tall, not a lift-kit Trackhawk fast, on some young nigga rich shit Lamb' truck look like a shark, I'm a big fish
for all the B.I.Gs stepped in the game with some rock and a sling kickin the door waving Four four If we had no mics thes guns would sing. Shots in
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