Uh oh, fresh out the bed Uh oh, count up the deads You niggas in trouble (niggas in trouble) You niggas in trouble No forreal, no cap, my money long like anacondas If you think about runnin' with that then you in trouble Fresh out, outta the bed, count

We turn it to hope This heart don't count on the wicked We face this world alone When all that want is to break you Turn anger into hope These eyes don't cry at all I'm telling you tonight I swear to tear up these nails from across the bed For giving you

No doubt about it that boy's country strong Workin' like hell 'til the dinner bell brings him back home He's up in the mornin' yawnin' with those work boots on Blue collar in his blood, backwoods in his bones Cat Diesel Power cap pulled down low Makin

She turns every head when she walks by Lights up the room with her pretty smile But you better stay away when she gets mad 'Cause she can make your world fall apart When she loves she loves with all her heart And that makes me a lucky man She can do no

I can see us in a house next year You'll be making your mind up You can figure out what goes where Everybody needs something all the fuckin' time It doesn't come that easy anyway Every time I try it never feels the way it did at the start This one for my

I'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch Do the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip I pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit Niggas iffy, uh, Blicky got the stiffy, uh Got the blicky, uh, drum it holds fifty, uh Shout out, but I

I'm ballin' outta control, I'm ballin' outta control I wake up on a daily basis I go so hard with these riches I fell in love with the Rollie I said fuck all of you hoes I count this money up, I'm already rich I fell in love as a dodie These demons, they

'Cause I'm a country boy Climb in my bed, I'll take you for a ride Up city streets, down country roads 'Cause I'm a country boy, I've got a four-wheel drive I can get you where you need to go I can get you where you want to go Excuse me ma'am, I saw you

Pretty girls drinkin' tall boys Watchin' pretty girls drinkin' tall boys Swingin' their hips to a country song Silver cans up in the air Ain't nothin' like gettin' right Chasing a buzz with a cold Bud Light 'Bout pretty girls drinkin' There ain't much to

Makes you wanna build A 10 percent down White picket fence house on this dirt Its that elm shade Red roads clay you grew up on You circled up on Drift a cloud back Behind county roads The mud on her jeans that she peeled off