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Letra

Yeah I'm the son of the south, blood crimson red (Yeah)
Blue jeans faded with the grease-stained hands (Yeah)
Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I am (Yeah)
Don't come over here disrespectin' my homeland
My homeland, yeah

Yeah, when the shit goes down
I'll be somewhere with a hundred thousand gun shot rounds
With a railroad car covered up in the ground
With a barbed wire fence wrapped all the way around my house
Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, 80 model high rise
Snipers spittin' beech nut from a hilltop rise
Yeah, motherf*cker, everybody's on my team
Bikers, OG's, Klan members and the police
And everybody's still figurin' out what's on the news
And they do this shit on purpose who ain't even got a clue
White lives, black lives, and the blue matter too
So point your gun across the sea and let's just stand as a group
'Cause they got people tryna kill us 'cause our f*ckin' beliefs
And towelheads in the subway with a bomb in their briefs
So let's cut the bullshit and stand for all our people
And cut some motherf*ckin' throats, let them bleed 'til we're equal

Yeah I'm the son of the south, blood crimson red
Blue jeans faded with the grease-stained hands
Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I am
Don't come over here disrespectin' my homeland
My homeland, yeah

Thunder bar runnin' I'm the man behind the curtain
Got a f*ck you, I don't even know you attitude for certain
I'm just tryna find my purpose while the vultures fly around my head
Tellin' me the things I can do to darn prove myself
Friends fallin' off of the face of the Earth
'Cause they don't know how to act that I made myself somethin'
I'm unity bustin' southern motherf*cker for real
And I live by the home flag, die by the steel
Gunpowder and kerosene, grenades and pride
And if you tryna harm my country then you in for a ride
And we don't bury you bitches we just throw you up in the fire
That's the smell of sweet freedom, USA 'til I die

My homeland, my homeland, my homeland
(Yeah my homeland, yeah my homeland)
My homeland
(Yeah my homeland, yeah my homeland)
Yeah I'm the son of the south, blood crimson red
Blue jeans faded with the grease-stained hands
Scars on my knuckles and that's still who I am
Don't come over here disrespectin' my homeland
(Yeah my homeland)
My homeland

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