don t worry about this dirty south til its mud floods ya front stoop aces and acres of haters growing out the same root that hit you quicker than poverty in two major arteries havin you movin and softshoe in like who made you property black face and sambos tied for last place let facts state we like wildcats in a rat race at that rate the state stay ahead of tomorrow standing out like mount kilimanjaro so through this bluegrass follow sorrow blacker then the ghetto you fear you disappear like the future of the ghetto you near where index fingers bring the heavy metal you hear block stars loading guns as fiends battle for crumbs come travel through slums try politickin with pushas made block decisions while mothafuckas overlooked us under the radar like helicopters on the sly crept in with hoods on kkky kkky more then what you thank it is ain t just tobacco some bourbon and where horse racin live this is for my mark makers i keep my flask tipped live where the grass crip steppin in my blood don t try to play mike vick and stick a dog in this fight ya art of loud bark don t veto your mosquitoish bite the mc s too dark the producer too white fam the too loose the beats is to tight we parry blows we bury foes through stereos keep an aerial view over scenarios some niggas that move spirts like a liquor store aa after 12 steps you back to get some more makers of woodford reserve that curve ya nerves we country coming with fists while you armed with words field nigga brand hands that ll slap you to sleep from the land of hard liquor and tobacco that s cheap we rose like lazarus a miraculous feat put soul in it gave what s left back to the streets but we all artist regardless of the art is in speech close kyn make notes bent tryna find a release from this