This is a song about "Country hicks"

Without the racist hicks and ghetto thugs jackin' bikes,

They were niggas quite similar to pitching the lines

Country ass hicks but know how to spit trick

There's a million names for your kind of chronic

Went to another country that's call migration

My talent should take me places i've never been

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

Am i just a country boy, who rocks

- - and now look, a crumbled country thin on prodigies,

I know just what you need nigga that know when to leave

Dumb hillbilly backwoods hicks, trying to mask our past,

Accidents happen when i got the mac in hand

The ones you trust to lead your country are lethal people

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Some go to country clubs, while others grub, drown at liquor stores,

Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse