This is a song about "Southern supremacy"

But i don't trust anybody, yeah no one

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

I tell her it's my house, give her a tour

The poor southern white boy, he's like picasso for sure,

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

Follow the yellow brick road, stroll down southern streets

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

Is southern culture, still we got our fucking jobs overseas,

A poor white southern boy, fuck it, life, i should nail it hard,

She bend it over, make that thing look like a work of art

Trapped in my own communityone day i'm gonna bust

Feds with bugs like the southern heat, power's unplugged

Going to the southern land

Scrilla fan, oh boy and

Fuck the rest, we keep it nice and trill, southern takeover

Never will you survive if you ever rhyme for a poser