Country to the City (feat. Jg Made Um Look)
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
Well, son of a bitch, look what them boys done come with
Then fuck the fame, man, I'm cool off that dumb shit
Born in the boons, the sticks got me this far
You've come from the hills, you leave with a few scars
I wasn't stacking racks, I was stacking car tires
And mark my land with eight miles of barbed wire
It seems like since we was kids we was hard-wired
To drink whiskey and bar fights and start fires
Out in my shop, I got somethin' to wrench on
And out in my crop, I got somethin' to stench on
Sport a Carhartt, bitches got something to clench on
And you can't tell me nothing homeboy, I'm too head strong
And we was tired of the same shit
All you lame kids so we made our own language
I got a weed degree so fuck Cambridge
Kali Wap, let them know who we came with
I'm as country as your gun wrapped in camo
Fucked around and chopped the top-up off the Lambo'
From the other side but Bubba's still fam though
No strings attached, country as some banjos
I ain't tripping, I was raised in tough tennis shoes
I've been through way too much to ever try to envy you
I'm a country boy, the city life is miniscule
Fuck the water, grow some weed up in the swimming pool
There's a party everybody, bring your wheel barrel
I ain't country, man, you funny, Will Ferrell
Fuck your liquor we get moonshine and we fill barrels
White lighting and I ain't just hyping
I keep the greenery, don't fuck with the tumbleweeds
And I surround myself with family 'cause they humble me
Long distance, better know I ain't playin' with ya
JG hit 'em with the Winchester
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
Where I come from, we hustle hard
For the money, not the muscle, but the muscle cars
Ride around on 22's just to pull a couple bars
Get out and go and floss on the boulevard
Yeah, city boys is what they call us
Only backwoods that you catch us on is if we're rolling
Rolling sticky green stone cool is what they call us
If you don't fuck with the crew, my nigga then learn something
Fuck the haters, say how I stay together
Me and the Good Ol' Boys, Bubba Sparxxx, tell me who better
If I get on the track, you know that I'ma kill it
'Bout to take a trip to the Ville, Bubba, let's get it
Why they worried 'bout the money I ain't spending
I'm just chilling with my kinfolk, smoking, poking these women
They think I'm alien
Hopped on the country rap track and straight killed that
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dime
I was country before it was cool to be (yeah)
That dirt road life ain't nothin' new to me (naw)
They forgot about Bub' but they soon to be (damn)
Reminded of what he done and it just begun (woo)
I'm on the run in Sacramento (Sacramento)
With the Good Ol' Boyz, that's my kinfolk (you know it)
I had a Pinto, then I traded it for (for)
A Ford SUV and I made it explore (explore)
And you can't ignore that (no)
Real Tree camouflage on the door mat (you know it)
30-30 in the gun rack (pop, pop)
Mix country and rap, I done that (haha man)
Way before you ever seen that (seen)
In your wildest dreams, you couldn't dream that (you)
So tell me, where the love at? (Where it's at?)
You must have known at some point I would come back
Country boy do it big like a pine tree
On the porch with my folks sipping sweet tea
Generations in the town man about three
Ain't no other place in the world I'd rather be
Than with my kinfolk on the good smoke
Barbecue at the pad, homie, let's go
Yeah, you know how we do it here
In the game hogging lanes, better keep clear
In my pickup truck rollin' with the beat up
Flying down a back road, better roll the weed up
Full moon, cold brew and the fresh air
Cowgirl boots, daisy dukes standin' over there
Making moves causing grooves just to get the dough
Got a little now but I need a little more
Tip your hat to the game man, that's how it go
Like to do our shit big but we ridin' slow
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
Well, son of a bitch, look what them boys done come with
Then fuck the fame, man, I'm cool off that dumb shit
Born in the boons, the sticks got me this far
You've come from the hills, you leave with a few scars
I wasn't stacking racks, I was stacking car tires
And mark my land with eight miles of barbed wire
It seems like since we was kids we was hard-wired
To drink whiskey and bar fights and start fires
Out in my shop, I got somethin' to wrench on
And out in my crop, I got somethin' to stench on
Sport a Carhartt, bitches got something to clench on
And you can't tell me nothing homeboy, I'm too head strong
And we was tired of the same shit
All you lame kids so we made our own language
I got a weed degree so fuck Cambridge
Kali Wap, let them know who we came with
I'm as country as your gun wrapped in camo
Fucked around and chopped the top-up off the Lambo'
From the other side but Bubba's still fam though
No strings attached, country as some banjos
I ain't tripping, I was raised in tough tennis shoes
I've been through way too much to ever try to envy you
I'm a country boy, the city life is miniscule
Fuck the water, grow some weed up in the swimming pool
There's a party everybody, bring your wheel barrel
I ain't country, man, you funny, Will Ferrell
Fuck your liquor we get moonshine and we fill barrels
White lighting and I ain't just hyping
I keep the greenery, don't fuck with the tumbleweeds
And I surround myself with family 'cause they humble me
Long distance, better know I ain't playin' with ya
JG hit 'em with the Winchester
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
Where I come from, we hustle hard
For the money, not the muscle, but the muscle cars
Ride around on 22's just to pull a couple bars
Get out and go and floss on the boulevard
Yeah, city boys is what they call us
Only backwoods that you catch us on is if we're rolling
Rolling sticky green stone cool is what they call us
If you don't fuck with the crew, my nigga then learn something
Fuck the haters, say how I stay together
Me and the Good Ol' Boys, Bubba Sparxxx, tell me who better
If I get on the track, you know that I'ma kill it
'Bout to take a trip to the Ville, Bubba, let's get it
Why they worried 'bout the money I ain't spending
I'm just chilling with my kinfolk, smoking, poking these women
They think I'm alien
Hopped on the country rap track and straight killed that
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dime
I was country before it was cool to be (yeah)
That dirt road life ain't nothin' new to me (naw)
They forgot about Bub' but they soon to be (damn)
Reminded of what he done and it just begun (woo)
I'm on the run in Sacramento (Sacramento)
With the Good Ol' Boyz, that's my kinfolk (you know it)
I had a Pinto, then I traded it for (for)
A Ford SUV and I made it explore (explore)
And you can't ignore that (no)
Real Tree camouflage on the door mat (you know it)
30-30 in the gun rack (pop, pop)
Mix country and rap, I done that (haha man)
Way before you ever seen that (seen)
In your wildest dreams, you couldn't dream that (you)
So tell me, where the love at? (Where it's at?)
You must have known at some point I would come back
Country boy do it big like a pine tree
On the porch with my folks sipping sweet tea
Generations in the town man about three
Ain't no other place in the world I'd rather be
Than with my kinfolk on the good smoke
Barbecue at the pad, homie, let's go
Yeah, you know how we do it here
In the game hogging lanes, better keep clear
In my pickup truck rollin' with the beat up
Flying down a back road, better roll the weed up
Full moon, cold brew and the fresh air
Cowgirl boots, daisy dukes standin' over there
Making moves causing grooves just to get the dough
Got a little now but I need a little more
Tip your hat to the game man, that's how it go
Like to do our shit big but we ridin' slow
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
From the dirt roads to the city lights
I done my dirt, cold chilly life
Before the rooster crows, I'm up getting mine
I bring the country to the city, elbows and dimes
Credits
Writer(s): Remington Peter Constable, Jason Francis Benka, Bubba Sparxxx, Jg Madeumlook, Ronald Merrill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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