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Country Boy Freestyle
$crim
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Yeah, you know we bumpin' that motherfuckin' northside
Northside killer, baby
(You did good, $lick)
(It's a smash)
(Lonely boy)
You know, some days I wake up wantin' to blow my fuckin' head off
Some days I wake up feelin' like, ain't naan motherfucker fuckin' with me
Yeah, bitch, I ain't with all the drama, I'm just tryna ball
Devil tryna tempt me, but he picked the wrong dog
Yeah, I'm 'bout the money, but the pussy, hell nah
I ain't fuckin' with these - like I'm Rand Paul
Woke up, sun shinin', it's a good day in my hood
Pull up to the corner store to cop my daily goods
Codeine smell like candy, but this chronic smell like foot
White skin cracker, but my heart is black as soot, uh
Hard to up my frequency 'cause suckers always testin'
They don't see the curse that come behind the fuckin' blessings
Might change my name to Jacob the way me and God be wrestlin'
Shit hit different with a couple cribs to be depressed in
Northside problems got me poppin' pills in Destin'
Tellin' my brothers 'bout the Lord in hopes they get in Heaven
'Cause when it comes to me, I highly doubt that I'll get let in
I'm the type to go to Hell and pop the devil with my weapon
Curvin' jezebels, them bitches bad for your health, uh
What the fuck is wealth if my dad can't get well? Uh
I could never fail even if my plan was to fail, uh
Came up eatin' spam, now I got sand in my mail, uh
Never got it twisted, didn't expect them to be happy for me
Big ass truck up in the city, you know I can't help it, I'm too damn country
My swag so dummy, make a black man wanna be a honky
I'm high as a junkie on a Monday
On a Tuesday, on a Wednesday
On a Thursday, on a Friday
On a Saturday, on a Sunday
Type to crash out on a one way
I be takin' off with no run way
I'm the unc' they wanna be someday
I'm clutch, I only need one play
Fuck do you know 'bout the trenches?
I ain't hearin', no, boy from the benches
I can change your whole life with a mention
Locked into another dimension
So five to the zero to the four like a Benson
Uh, giddy up
You know what the fuck it is
Giddy up, what?
Yeah, 700 horses, TRX sound like the fairgrounds
They ain't 'bout a fuckin' thing, ain't even worth a stare down
Doin' what I do so my bitch can keep her hair down
If they knew what I did, fuck the jail, I'd be chair bound
Yeah, caddy with the Windows up
I been countin' money while my bitch beside me rollin' blunts
The fucks ten thousand hours? Got 200 months
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, like I went and become a nun
Yeah, he's on, bitch
This that tune for you motherfuckin' hoes
Yeah, bitch, I ain't with all the drama, I'm just tryna ball
Devil tryna tempt me, but he picked the wrong dog
Yeah, I'm 'bout the money, but the pussy, hell nah
I ain't fuckin' with these- like I'm Rand Paul
Woke up, sun shinin', it's a good day in my hood
Pull up to the corner store to cop my daily goods
Codeine smell like candy, but this chronic smell like foot
White skin cracker, but my heart is black as soot, uh
Scott, it's
Hey, you were, uh, talkin', uh, last night
About, uh, struggling with your faith
Give me a call, I wanna tell you about Romans 10:17
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