All I wanna do is make my hometown proud Make them turn it up loud, roll them windows down Gonna give them that sound, everybody's talking about We still the same old, same old southern boys Still got that same old, same old southern voice We're singing

When we go up We do it loud They never believe what we’re talking about Snare to the kick to the bass makes them jump Everybody listen Listen to the melody 'Cause we need each and everyone of you To go long with the song

Bitch I'm rich as fuck, bitch I'm rich as fuck I get 10 Brazilians like I'm Dan Bilzerian I'mma get some sauce, I'mma get some sauce Them hoes can sick a duck, bitches sick a duck They gon' talk about me, they gon' talk about me They can't walk around

Stop don't stop don't stop Giving me things Laughing about it Stop don't stop don't stop I said Walk little walk Small talk big thoughts Gonna tell them all just what I want That street two streets I see you and me Hanging on the empty swings

(Woah) Just let 'em talk about it Let 'em talk about it, let 'em talk about it, let 'em talk Let them talk, just let 'em talk, just let 'em Shake that ass, don't care if they talk about it Fuck all that, haters, just forget about 'em Do your thing, don't

Talk about them Tell 'em how crazy I drove you Talk about how crazy you drove me Talk about them favors you owe me Talk about them lies you told me Talk about true colors you showed me Talk about them, what? Aye lil mama say she fuck me tough yeah

On some rodeo man Best thing he ever did was leave ya You better pull yourself together Tina, I swear you're better Than just waiting around Don't talk about him, Tina You gotta get yourself up and dust them boots off Ain't no use in staying sad or

Stop don't stop don't stop Giving me things Laughing about it Stop don't stop don't stop I said Walk little walk Small talk big thoughts Gonna tell them all just what I want That street two streets I see you and me Hanging on the empty swings

I'm sick of them sweatsuits and them corny hats, let's talk about it I'm sick of you bein' rich and you still mad, let's talk about it Both of us single dads from the Midwest, we can talk about it Or we could get gully, I'll size up your body And put

(Wheel it!) Yeah (Six!) Murda on tha beat so it's not nice That’s Baka, he's a no-long-talker Quick to let the motherfuckin' TEC slam We don’t need to hear about a next man Youts talk down, then they get ran Left them, get dipped from the whole ends