This is a song about "Real country music"

I got family spread out across the country

Folarin be ballin for all yall to see

At times i like to watch out the latest shit

Chips, chocolate, pop, popcorn and music

Like dead presidents a country leaderless and lawless,

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

Shit i'm the the rapper

Yeah, they call me country grammar

20 racks really thats sneaker money

Is in another country

Complexion from heaven don't be bleaching your shit

Blast the music up real loud, weed, beer, smokin' chronic,

Leaving the country soaked with oceanic regions

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

Nothin sweet when i attend, see

Hustle for dis country money