"Conspiracy" Lyrics

Yeah, yeah
Church

Man, I know I'm getting stupid hella views,
Closet got about a hundred pair of boots
Looking like the set that walked the Texas Ranger
Every time you step inside my fucking room
Gun sitting in the corner loaded ready
When the thief is stealing shit about my yard
I don't even call the Cheatham County police
I just call the morgue to get you out my yard
I got more connections than a box of Legos
Got enough bread to buy a fucking Lambo
But I'd rather buy mud trucks, smoke good weed
And roll that shit by the fucking handfull
Yeah, I'm tatted up, 26, from the stix
Got a gift, so legit how I spit from the trench
Bought a single wide trailer and I made that pimp (Oh yeah)
Got the 'Vette on fleek with the top of the house
No shoes, no shirt, with the sunshine out
But I won't get burned, still cold in south
Shit, dawg, just bring that microphone out
Yeah, I'm black on black, the intimidator
Still making noise like damn cicadas
This white boy got a little bit of flavor
Still keep it country like grape tomatoes

Tailgates dropping on the south side
Got that black smoke steady rolling
Glovebox got that James Bond
And I ain't scared to bust you open
From the land of I don't trust you
So don't take my shit too serious
Unless you're trying to fuck with me
You'll end up a conspiracy

That's destiny, that's will
That's striving, that's being a trailblazer
An explorer, going into space
Mathematics, quantum mechanics, the secrets of the universe

All I know is doing hard work
Blood, sweat and tears stained up in my shirt
Mama told me, "Keep dreaming till the dream come to life"
Yeah I grew it from the dirt
Used to play, getting dirty in the mud
Now I'm grown, still dirty with it son
Rebel flag waving in the southern sun
This is who I am, you cannot take it from me
I don't twitter beef, I'm out here getting even
Hiding in your bushes while your ass is sleeping
Jack the Ripper kind of vibe is when I'm creeping
Leave you like a broken sink, you're steady leaking
Big guns, clicked up looking like we're getting ready for the fucking purge
Toolbox got enough ammunition to wipe out a city from the motherfucking curb
Big game, big boots, big balls, big wallet
Shocking people like they stuck their head inside a light socket
Einstein-looking ass every time I drop it
I will never lose my shine, skin is diamond plate
They want me to stop but I fucking can't
Out there repping for my little country state
Cheatham county, baby, that is where I stay

Tailgates dropping on the south side
Got that black smoke steady rolling
Glovebox got that James Bond
And I ain't scared to bust you open
From the land of I don't trust you
So don't take my shit too serious
Unless you're trying to fuck with me
You'll end up a conspiracy

Don't you understand the magnitude
I'm right, I'm correct
I've done the research
I know what I'm talking about
I don't like being right
I wish I was wrong, but I'm correct
They hate your success!
They hate your strengths!
They hate your passion!