Lyrics:
Well my momma met my daddy down in Alabama
They tied the knot so here I am
Born on the bayou on the Texas Line
Loved in Louisiana and raised
called me by my name just hillbilly
My Grandpa taught me how to live off the land
And his taught him to be a business man
He used to send me pictures
Yea
Let me tell you something about life it
Is not just strife and when
Time is passing by you don't
Notice because you're having fun
But why that time
I feel like i need a fan
Wan't a fan and again, know i got it on my
Wrist then i hit it then i go, when
I go, when i'm gone, and i'm gone
And i'm
a hip-hop fan
Hey DJ (you're on the line girl)
Hey DJ (on the request line girl)
Play a record by my favorite band
We comin' through to take control
here and pop off real quick
Yo, I gotta get that guap by any means
You know what I'm sayin', son?
Growin' up in Brooklyn, shit
I thought that
Guevara
In era di complotti con demenza fallocratica
Proxy poi senza identità recuperan l'atavica
Nei media fan tragedia di sostituzione etnica
Ma metton
They wanna ride the wave and I know why
Alabama flow cause these niggas all roll tide
Trynna get fly like I, requires more spendin'
Don't worry boys we
and got me the pants (I got me the pants)
Gun to your face like get in the van (Brr)
Spent the whole day with me cuz she a fan (Cuz she a fan)
Walk in
a car just cause
You wanna roll up on me, I'ma kill your family just because
You pussy ass boy, came from Alabama, fucking on your cousins
Wake up in
Baby, I'm back by popular demand
Bitch, I'm back by popular demand
I did not come to play with you hoes
I came to slay, bitch
Y'all haters
I cross the Green Mountain
I sit by the stream
Heaven blazing in my head I
I dreamed a monstrous dream
Something came up
Out of the sea
Swept
and graphic grammar
My verbal murder strech from Alaska to Alabama
Get touched by my Arm and Hammer
All across the planet niggas crumble like granite
It's hard to understand
I'm gon' try to explain what it means
To be a southern man
It's an Alabama hard dirt back road
Georgia farmland heart and soul
some young proud niggas with a lotta ego
Got me thinkin' bout the right stuff, they ain't like us now its fuck me
Alabama she don't ride trucks but she
daddy when I cum
I survived them Alabama winters
Although its not place for an anemic nigga.
Thats why I'm in Cali nigga
I traveled the world now I'm
if you see my ghost on Broadway
Tell him that I'm doin' fine
I only wish that it was him instead of me
Measurin' my days by 9 to 5
Alabama, I never
niggas talkin' about stick talk
When they tryna lit up on tic tok
We the best in the league Alabama
Tryna find a way from Sac to Atlanta
I put a grapevine
Who’s house?
It’s electrical banana
Cat and mouse outside with the sledge hammers
I got 3 phones and sweet home Alabama’s
In Atlanta
Southern twang
Jazz SpaceMan! New profession adapted
while mapping out a quest, my direction was crafted
By the main upstairs, give me space to land-Lord
become
Or how we got this far apart
But all I know is that
I wanna go back to that little room
Inside that little Alabama house
You may be living by
Free Spider
Ever since that day I'm like I gotta move better
I got to
Two thousand and fourteen that's when I moooved to Alabama
Slidding gang
Selling
"Keep Her"
Song by Murphy's Ford
Song writers: Brandon Matthews (Murphy's Ford publishing BMI) & Ryan Tomlinson BMI
When she got home from
Tush, Cocaine, Sweet Home Alabama
I knew I had her in the palm of my hand
When I stepped in the spotlight
Hot and heavy in that little alley
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