Lyrics:
I was raised by wolves in jungle
Watch me hustle
If I stumbled I recover with bundle
keep it on humble
Yelling death to the scammers
Road trip
will avenge all the abandoned scenes
Part of me feels nobody has really been a fan of me
Why does this blood that's flowing with love feel like
Danger Danger
There's a brand new stranger
Claiming that's he's backed by lil baby from the manger
Yes
It's me
Young Theerie
Tryna make the world
dcck inside your ears
My happiness Dey on drugs
I use the pills to wipe my tears
Go and make money
Them no wan know the source
No be by age brother see
played
Waitin' for the Alabama sun to go down
Two red dirt girls in a red dirt town
Me and Lillian
Just across the line
And a little southeast
Probably never made a single person cold
But I can't say the same for me
I've done it many times
Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines
Probably never made a single person cold
But I can't say the same for me
I've done it many times
Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines
Drinking too early by a couple years
Alabama pumping out the Alpines
Kool cigarettes and hot truck beer
Mama's tears and daddy's tough love
We knew
courses and dialogue
Regional atlanta, alabama savannah
I kick a rhyme like a ball to indiana
Missouri, kentucky, like dent, call me bucky
Rogers i'm
knew you are why I write so
Run away with me
I sleep so much better by your side
Alabama could be a pretty sweet home for you and I.
A pretty sweet home
your reputation Was your currency
Folks falling for the same tricks Clumsily
I'm independent bout by Business labels dumb to me
I'm spittin this with
Like my home bodies a lil chubby
Had a deuce deuce
In my cubby by my
Juice juice
A and b honor roll
I wasn't slow
Just a few screws loose
In class
just vacant
I thought I'd be happier by now
(How do I get better)
I know I've changed so much but feel the same somehow
(I've tried everything but it
by and make him stare
His girlfriend mad but I don't even care
See I don't share no nigga
A fucking fashion killer
This pussy on the way like a door
it got a tan
If it's pure white then it's Roxanne
I do my dance like dirty Dan
I'll spin this shit like Celine fan
This shìt get hot cool off your man
we jeopardize for thighs with Sigma Gamma ties
You niggas fairly odd, y'all wonder bout our own demise
Then catch one on the crimson chin like Alabama
old gray mules
The farm grew to be a money maker
And the house he lived in
Grew up room by room
The boy worked hard
But soon got tired of farmin'
fade away the way that Bohemians often bare the frigid air
He returned from Alabama to see what he could see
Constant commentary by the wayside
got time for no broke ass motherfucker
Bad bitch let me clack my fan
Put this cookie in your face, make you eat it again
I just want the dollars I ain’t
the skies
My show getting started everywhere my fans be
And there won't be a spot not promoting me
My fans everywhere that your eyes will see
One fan two
a backwoods baby
Drive my tractor drive me crazy
Likes huntin'
Loves fishin'
And she can hold her own in the kitchen
And by the way boys did I mention
She's
Shes gotta cell phone
With a ringtone
Plays kid rock and sweet home
Alabama born, corn fed
Gotta lighted lamb by a waterbed
Drives a subaru with
Nikes, by the caseload
But still good to fuck with a Becky like John Stamos
Taught to know that the rule of thumb was innuendos
And to slay the box
Alabama
fig trees and okra
don’t get no better
Barefoot in Pineville
Louisiana.
I ain’t know nuttin bout the south (ex)cept stories I was told.
My mother
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