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Conspiracy

Yeah, yeah
Church

Man, I know I'm getting stupid hella views, closet got about a hundred pair of boots
Looking like the set that walked the Texas Ranger every time you step inside my fucking room
Gun sitting in the corner loaded ready when the thief is stealing shit about my yard
I don't even call the Cheatham County police, I just call the mort to get you out my yard
I got more connections than a box of Legos, got enough bread to buy a fucking Lambo
But I'd rather ride mud trucks, smoke good weed and roll that shit by the fucking [?]
Yeah, I'm tatted up, 26, from the stix, got a gift, so legit
How I spit from the [?], bought a single wide trailer and I made that [?]
Get the [?] on fleek with the top of the house, no shoes, no shirt, with the sunshine out
But I won't get burned, still cold in south, shit, dawg, just bring that microphone out
Yeah, I'm black on black, the intimidator, still making noise like damn cicadas
This white boy got a little bit of flavor, still keep it country like grape tomatoes

Tailgates dropping on the south side, got that black smoke steady rolling
Glovebox cut that James Bond and I ain't scared to push you over
From the land of I don't trust you so don't take my shit too serious
Unless you're trying to fuck with me, you'll end up a conspiracy

That's destiny, that's will
That's striving, that's being a trailblazer
And explorer, going into space
Mathematics, quantum mechanics, the secrets of the universe

All I know is doing hard work, blood, sweat and tears stained up in my shirt
Mama told me, "Keep dreaming till the dream come to life", yeah I grew it from the dirt
Used to play, getting dirty in the mud, now I'm grown, still dirty with it son
Rebel flag waving in the southern sun, this is who I am, you cannot take it from me
I don't twitter beef, I'm out here getting even, hiding in your bushes while your ass is sleeping
Check the river kind of [?] without creeping, leave you like a broken sink, you're steady leaking
Big guns, clicked up looking like we're getting ready for the fucking purge
Toolbox got enough ammunition to wipe out a city from the motherfucking curb
Big game, big boots, big balls, big wallet, shocking people
Like they stuck their head inside a light socket, Einstein-looking ass every time I drop it
I would never lose my shine, skin is diamond plate, they want me to stop but I fucking can't
Out there repping for my little country state, Cheatham county, baby, that is where I stay

Tailgate's dropping on the south side, got that black smoke steady rolling
Glovebox cut that James Bond and I ain't scared to push you over
From the land of I don't trust you so don't take my shit too serious
Unless you're trying to fuck with me, you'll end up a conspiracy

Don't you understand the magnitude, I'm right, I'm correct
I've done the research, I know what I'm talking about
I don't like being right, I wish I was wrong, but I'm correct
They hate your success!
They hate your strengths!
They hate your passion!

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