Know what I'm saying, Big Haystak Street Flavor Records, bitch, represent I remember when I was young All my people told me I could Be anything I wanted to be when I grew up You know what I'm saying, and that's it for us I was a big old white boy from Tennessee that wanted to be a rap star And that was fucking impossible
I over came opsticals did what they said couldn't be done I went from murder dog to fire?? I'm the one The only one who held it down for white class Before it was cool to be white trash You can't change the world so why try Watch them chains to tidies From fist fights to drive bys I be out there late night and I'm white guy So when I'm gone say goodbye to that white guy
I dedicate this to the hags and fags Who associate Haystak with racism and rebel flags You fucking bitch When you mention me speak on killer weed and body bags Hi proportion? And burning the flag My grand daddy's mammy was half Cherokee My grand mamma family came from an island in Germany And me I'm just a mixed breed from Tennessee Everything you fake mother fuckers pretend to be
[hook] White boy cracker hoocie weado Damn do evil blue eyed devil Pail face and I'm proud to be that dude Make up some more shit to me white boy I be that too
You've been running your mouth for the past ten years But never ran a mother fucking thing 'round here Pioneers lets get one thing clear We been making music for years ya hear Hardcore you better ask about hay I get love 'round the way like e-40 in the bay I'm from the land of the brave Home of the free And there's five million other fools just like me
We the have-nots little badass kids Momma doing bad, dad der doing a bid And we was set free to do as we please Reek havoc on the streets of our communities And we didn't have no curfew We didn't have no rules We don't need no book bags cause we don't go to school Imagine my middle finger In the mother fuckin sky Screaming cwb till I die Lil player, lil
[hook] White boy cracker hoocie weado Damn do evil blue eyed devil Pail face and I'm proud to be that dude Make up some more shit to me white boy I be that too
Hey bro what you looking for Twenty Auh twenty, I don't have no twenties But I got some fat dimes Auh you like that huh Come back and fuck with your people ya hear
Born a bastard child who struggled with love We congregated on the corners puffin and pushing dubs A lack of love a lack of understanding A lack of compassion a lack of better parenting The sad thing is either they don't know Don't show Or just don't care, well That is till tad and rad? Come to school with gauges And start shooting up the rich kids in the faces Mom and dad ducked in their shoes "It was the crowd they hung around Music that they listed to" White boys been dying around here for years But it never make cnn You know why We were put here to die So when we kill one another It comes as no surprise We animals in their eyes I represent the trial when I'm behind the mic Can't tell me nothing about no damn stereotype
[hook] White boy cracker hoocie weado Damn do evil blue eyed devil Pail face and I'm proud to be that dude Make up some more shit to me white boy I be that too
Compositores: Jasoin Bryan Winfree (Big Hay), Anthony Lorenzo Paradise (Sonny Paradise), Kevin Dale Grisham (D J Deu) ECAD: Obra #17310066