"Keep Rappin' My Boy" lyrics
Jeff McCool Lyrics
If you over 35 and still rapping keep rapping my boy
Keep going to that studio because these motherfucking young bulls is trash
They're not authentic they're not original
Majority of em is talentless they don't have their own sound
They don't have their own identity they all sound the same do the same shit
Dick eat off of each other
And honestly majority of this music today is just trash
Damn the rules I don't play by the books
Just cold looks hot hooks and white trash crooks
I was born in the cold but that shoddy stayed warm
Chilly like a morgue in a black-out storm
I'm the ink in the pen or what the devil just wrote
Halo full of smoke and a new murder quote
I'm slick with it boy I ride through the chaos
Talked ice in the fire made hell take the day off
I write what don't chart but still it heals
You write what get's claps but don't feel real
You rap for applause I rap for the soul
And you aim for the moment I aim for control
You perform in a mirror I speak to the broken
You rhyme for the camera I write what's unspoken
You rhyme death with tech Shrek a neck and deck
You busy with cadence I'm busy with depth
I got a southern drawl when I flipped that flow
Then that west coast walk with a slick ass stroll
Tell stories like Cash and snap like Cube
I go alt-rock rebel with a trap beat loop
Ya'll rapping in lines boy I bend dimensions
My style got styles bad intentions
Don't ask what genre bitch I'm the storm
A country rap mutation that was just reborn
They say he can't rap then I rap like this
That white boy got bars on some jailhouse shit
Boy I came from the sticks with a stick and a scope
Needle on the track That boy's DOPE
Yo redneck rave I know my pace
Put a bird in the sky and aim at your face
Snap like a trap jaw snap like a jaw trap
Back in the lac with a strap and some raw raps
You write bullshit my shit's too hard
Boy I cut to the flesh with emotional scars
You're the myth and the meth smoke We see that fear
I'm the trailer park poet You pretend ain't here
I'm the chill in the air when the lights go black
I'm that who's that knocking with the 40 cocked back
Talk roots bitch I'm the swamp in the dark
Where you snakes talk shit but your dogs don't bark
I'm the pain in the booth with a hillbilly snarl
The best to ever step from a 10 roof wall
From Waylon to Willie I embody the rage
Turn my life to a novel with a blood stain page
I'm a twang in the beat when the beat goes off
I'm the GPS bitch when your soul get lost
White boy with bars and a murderous twist
I got a mouth like a barrel and my shells don't miss bitch
Keep rappin' my boy
Keep going to that studio because these motherfucking young bulls is trash
They're not authentic they're not original
Majority of em is talentless they don't have their own sound
They don't have their own identity they all sound the same do the same shit
Dick eat off of each other
And honestly majority of this music today is just trash
Damn the rules I don't play by the books
Just cold looks hot hooks and white trash crooks
I was born in the cold but that shoddy stayed warm
Chilly like a morgue in a black-out storm
I'm the ink in the pen or what the devil just wrote
Halo full of smoke and a new murder quote
I'm slick with it boy I ride through the chaos
Talked ice in the fire made hell take the day off
I write what don't chart but still it heals
You write what get's claps but don't feel real
You rap for applause I rap for the soul
And you aim for the moment I aim for control
You perform in a mirror I speak to the broken
You rhyme for the camera I write what's unspoken
You rhyme death with tech Shrek a neck and deck
You busy with cadence I'm busy with depth
I got a southern drawl when I flipped that flow
Then that west coast walk with a slick ass stroll
Tell stories like Cash and snap like Cube
I go alt-rock rebel with a trap beat loop
Ya'll rapping in lines boy I bend dimensions
My style got styles bad intentions
Don't ask what genre bitch I'm the storm
A country rap mutation that was just reborn
They say he can't rap then I rap like this
That white boy got bars on some jailhouse shit
Boy I came from the sticks with a stick and a scope
Needle on the track That boy's DOPE
Yo redneck rave I know my pace
Put a bird in the sky and aim at your face
Snap like a trap jaw snap like a jaw trap
Back in the lac with a strap and some raw raps
You write bullshit my shit's too hard
Boy I cut to the flesh with emotional scars
You're the myth and the meth smoke We see that fear
I'm the trailer park poet You pretend ain't here
I'm the chill in the air when the lights go black
I'm that who's that knocking with the 40 cocked back
Talk roots bitch I'm the swamp in the dark
Where you snakes talk shit but your dogs don't bark
I'm the pain in the booth with a hillbilly snarl
The best to ever step from a 10 roof wall
From Waylon to Willie I embody the rage
Turn my life to a novel with a blood stain page
I'm a twang in the beat when the beat goes off
I'm the GPS bitch when your soul get lost
White boy with bars and a murderous twist
I got a mouth like a barrel and my shells don't miss bitch
Keep rappin' my boy
