born this way (original) - mike bama lyrics
[intro: upchurch]
petyak, mike bama
we the cracker cartel son
what you know about that
ha ha ha ha ha
ain’t n-body stoppin’ this
you can try all you want to though boy
[verse 1: upchurch]
i’m saving country rap, it’s too generic and old
i stay sh-ttin’ on ’em, like they livin’ in my commode
everybody use to tell me i was too down-home
so i told em click record and let me tell you something
i ain’t never gave a sh-t, and i ain’t gonna start
got a rebel flag on my front lawn
tote a bunch of guns with the safety off
you can hear me comin’, straight pipe exhaust
in the sticks, no sh-t, i’m a backwoods boss
gonna take chris kyle to pick me off
that cheatham county blood bubba, you don’t wanna p-ss me off! i’m cold with my aim like i’m poppin’ these ducks
smokin’ these tires like i’m burnin’ my truck
k!llin’ these tracks like i want the guts
got blood on my hands that i don’t wash off
gimmie two big pines and a milo’s tea
and i’m spreadin’ sick sh-t like hiv
gonna raise this bar for the redneck scene
make all these boys wish they was me
’cause all i do is rhec sh-t, like a derby car
people call me roll-cage, ’cause i stay makin’ perfect bars
i got one main objective, show my fans we winnin’!
’cause that’s the way upchurch been
since the very d-mn beginnin’, boy
[chorus: petyak]
country boy, stay k!llin’ it, beatin’ up the track, gettin’ loud to a little bit of
country noise, talk smack get hit ’round here, live life no fear
i’ll be d-mned if i let you get in our way, it ain’t the time or place might wanna think twice before you mess with my gang
’cause we were born this way!
[verse 2: petyak]
in the beginnin’ they all thought i was kiddin’ (thought i was kiddin’)
white boy, ball cap, and some faded britches (faded britches)
holdin’ nothin’ but a dream and some tennessee
ridin’ ’round in my beaten up mercury (yeah that’s right)
now it’s big business, new shows, contracts and new clothes (them new clothes)
r.h.e.c. takin’ over sh-t who know we blow up the way we did
now we on that rack list, that outlaw, that hick sh-t (h-ll yeah!) that y’all cannot mess with
stuck in my ways, i’ll never change, family above everything
i’ve sacrificed and i’ve moved states since halftime like game day
but this game done been thrown, tryin’ hard to save it (uh)
but it’s hard when everybody stays tryin’ hard to break it (yeah)
runnin’ out of patience with it, if you feel it put your hands high (put your hands high)
and it’s r.h.e.c. ’til i ain’t alive (’til i ain’t alive)
we couldn’t even try to stop if we wanted to
but i tell you we’re gonna do all the things you don’t want us to (d-mn right)
’cause we’re
[chorus: petyak]
country boy, stay k!llin’ it, beatin’ up the track, gettin’ loud to a little bit of
country noise, talk smack get hit ’round here, live life no fear
i’ll be d-mned if i let you get in our way, it ain’t the time or place might wanna think twice before you mess with my gang
’cause we were born this way!
[verse 3: mike bama]
when i say get ready, you better get ready
’cause after this year, you’re never gonna forget me (never)
most of these rappers are soft as spaghetti (what?)
it’s ’bout to go down like jason vs freddy! (oh)
i’m k!llin’ these rappers, capitol murder
half of you b-tches, ain’t n-body heard of
slap you around like tina turner
turn the plea down like bobby shmurda
i’m on it right now, so better leave me alone
if you get up in my face, then i’m rockin’ your dome
no more bein’ nice, them days are all gone (over)
i’m makin’ a life, that i built on my own (mine)
it’s me and my boys, from r.h.e.c.
you know upchurch the redneck is clean as they be
just hand us a mic, and drop us a beat
then step back and watch, as we make history
i think i’m more than a man, i think i’m better than great
i think these haters slept on me, and now they wide and awake!
they rockin’ “back to my roots” and the feelin’ my grind
reppin’ r.h.e.c. until the end of time
we ain’t ya average joe’s, and we ain’t from the slums (naw)
we from the sticks and the hollers, where we stand for somethin’
and if you wanna test me, better be grade a
’cause i’m rollin’ with a squad, like a rebel parade (yeah)
rockin’ dixie land flags, showin’ off our southern pride
if you got a problem with it, we can take it outside (let’s go)
but you wouldn’t wanna try me, ’cause you wouldn’t last a round
we could rage-n-the-cage, make it really go down
i ain’t promisin’ nothin’, i ain’t sayin’ a word
but if the shots was fired, then i bet they was heard
(shots was fired, then i bet they was heard)
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