This is a song about "Rednecks with whiskey"

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

And if there is white poverty, they're seen as rednecks,

We ain't buying cds, we striving to live

Suicidally colliding with

With rock, shock rap with doc

O. trice always rep his block

I be simply sippin whiskey tipsy from the fuckin liqueur

I see my picture, when a nigga's gettin richer

When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz

You know that whites are trailer-dwelling trash rednecks,

Monstrous with pens and shit, abolishing with sentences

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

Hey mr. coach, i don't like you

Die with hope, live with virtue

Plumber in the back seat, pipe work

That whiskey sour, taste like rick howard/