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Church, yeah
Creek squad motherf*cker (Ha)
If you ain't rollin' with us, roll out (Biatch, skrrt)
Church, ah yeah

Last night I broke a floor in a venue out in Florida
We was ragin' in that bitch like we's gonna die tomorrow
I was hangin' from the rafters, they was screamin' "Come and get it"
While my sound guy rolled a doobie big enough to hit a homer with
Beer sprayin' like the Winners Circle, grab that checkered flag
My career look like Daytona and I won a hundred times
So many donuts blowin' smoke, looks like I set a Dunkin up in flames
Dopest country boy and everybody know my f*ckin' name

Tour bus full of legendaries, Ziploc full of orange and hairy
Back seat got that brrrah, bitch, I was raised in Ashland City
The sheriff shoots the shit with me, and he knows I smoke some weed
And told me wear a helmet when I'm ridin' wheelies on the street
Creek squad, cattle prod, house of logs, I'm the boss
Elvis Presley of my generation, stick my dick in music charts
Bitch, I went gold and I didn't even know
I put the flame to mainstream, I'm rollin' up a Luke Combs

We don't, we don't care 'bout who you with
We don't care 'bout what you got
We don't, we don't, we don't, we don't, we don't let the party stop
We don't care 'bout who you with
We don't care 'bout what you got
We don't, we don't, we don't, we don't, we don't let the party stop
We don't, we don't care 'bout who you with
We don't care 'bout what you got
We don't, we don't, we don't, we don't, we don't let the party stop
We don't care 'bout who you with
We don't care 'bout what you got
We don't, we don't, we don't, we don't, we don't let the party stop

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