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Dirty Boys

I'm 'bout to spit some fast shit
(One time for the dirty boys)
Chatham county bitch!
(Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah, I grew up on the old shit y'all already know this
I never thought somebody from my town would get noticed
Everybody try but eventually they all quit
And either went to college or they work up at the saw mill
Hip-hop country, how the fuck you think I feel
Got people looking at me thinking that I'm not for real
Bitch, I got four wheels turned down four deals
Four good buddies, with the four blue flame steels
Redneck shit to the maximum
Shit, I'm telling my story just rapping 'em
As I join in nobody can even fathom us
'Cause, it's three separate things just smashing (What?)
A little bit of country, little bit of hip-hop
Little bit of rock at the bottom of the rich top
White smoking shit like I'm motherfucking Ken Block
Holla whatchya wanna, but I'm always making shit pop
R.H.E.C. until my motherfucking heart stop
I say it 'cause I mean it till my motherfucking heart stop
Redneck bone in a 89 ragtop
Ya boy getting famous from a goddang laptop
Rolling, looking clean like a life-sized matchbox
Ex girl, hit my line, turned into a missed call
You can call me Trump 'cause I'm building me a big wall
Blocking out you haters while I'm grabbing on my white balls

One time for the dirty boys
Loud square bodies out making all the noise
One time for the dirty boys
River rats looking nasty, smoking all the joints
One time for the police
Always busting parties and the rent checks trying to chase me
Mustang GT, hippie chick with me
Puffing on some green, bumping M.G.M.T. (Ha!)

Every single person who ever told me that I couldn't
Gets a middle finger from me and calling me when they shouldn't
They're pushy and overlooking but now I'm more than a rookie
And making my county noticed for something other than druggies (Awe yeah)
Dixie Flag on the front porch (What?)
'Cause, your boy hotter than the tip of a damn blow torch
Fuck a Rolls Royce, I'd rather drive
A Monte Carlo with a cowl induction hood boy (Hood boy)
I'm from the woods boy, rolling in the woods toy
Talking starting working ain't the only thing I'm good for
Tougher than an old Ford Quiz sports
Still score picking up the farmers daughter, fricking on the front porch
Parents talking shit while I'm rolling up a whole log
Last day of senior year, shit, I was too gone
Knew I had to find myself off in this old world
And I was gonna yell it till a bunch of people all heard
Redneck spitting blue flame with the pen though
Never had a bunch of friends, always had my kin folk
Rolling six deep in the F-150
I don't need an image, 'cause the image came natural
Small town shit till I don't breathe
A bunch of attention brother I don't need
A bunch of fake friends I don't seek
Money ain't about shit, except for old greed
And I don't need a mansion by a big white beach
Gimme a fucking double wide by an old-ass creek
This is how I was raised and I'll always be
South side, Cheatham County, middle Tennessee

One time for the dirty boys
Loud square bodies out making all the noise
One time for the dirty boys
River rats looking nasty, smoking all the joints
One time for the police
Always busting parties and the rent checks trying to chase me
Mustang GT, hippie chick with me
Puffing on some green, bumping M.G.M.T. (Ha!)
One time for the dirty boys
One time for the dirty boys
Dirty Boys
One time for the dirty boys

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