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way long (down here in jawja) - apalachee don lyrics

[intro]
what you got?
what’s up then?
huh?
oh yeah
c’mon

[verse 1: [?]]
what’s poppin’? let’s get this daggum beat drop
off the top of the dome, let’s get this thing rockin’
it’s apalachee don rollin’ in da pigpen
playin’ in the mud race, smell what i’m sittin’ in
beat that, i’m a hillbilly trail blazer
raise a little h-ll, h-ll, my daddy was a h-ll raiser
that son of a gun was a gun of a son
so i’m sure that makes me one, ya heard?
ga, peach state, represent it y’all
we ain’t old fashion like the jackets and the bulldogs
outlaw, plus i studied in the juco
gangsters don’t live that long, that’s what i been told
i gets down in my town, call it monkey row
quiet little spot, head off down a country road
and if you ever in my neck of the hood
you might find me in georgia’s woods

[chorus]
down here in georgia, these roots grow way long
out here in my zone, (out here in georgia) these roots is my home
these roots grow way long, (out here in georgia) these roots grow way long
out here where i’m from, (down in georgia), i’m proud of my home
these roots grow way long

[verse 2: [?]]
there’s no tellin’ where you find me, been runnin’ for a long time
on the loose, runnin’ juice across county and state lines
outlaw sippin’ man, get it how i live
copper stills in the foothills, and daddy gave me all the sk!lls
propane, blue fame, sugar in the mash
long wait, full tape, cut the heat, don’t scorch the stash
swine shine, firewater octane
burn so good, guaranteed your whole life change
i’ve always had it, no matter what the product be
been pushin’ weight since a youngin’, now i’m an old g
city streets, trap houses full of dope fiends
just trailer park single-wide seein’ the same things
i needed change, i had to roll it up
headed back to mama house where i grew up
’cause i was raised in the south, cornbread fed
when i leave i’ma be dirty south dead

[verse 3: [?]]
i came this way from the big, bright lights
a city boy lost, tryna get his mind right
get his life right, put an end to the hurt
so i hit the interstate ’til it turned into dirt
made it work when it was really broke
like an old wagon wheel with a split spoke (split spoke)
kept it movin’ on a mission like a soldier with his orders
california to the foothills of georgia
call it home now, deep in the pines
a southern state of mind, sittin’ in the sunshine
i ain’t lyin’, nothin’ better than a fresh peach
when every one you pick is lookin’ good enough to eat
smell the hog feet, pickled with the pepper
cornbread gettin’ cooked any kinda weather
swingin’ through the pit, don’t get no better
mud on the tires and some pine in the swisher

- apalachee don lyrics

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