"Appalachia" lyrics
Church
Mother, mother fucker
Yeah, talk that talk you talkin' 'bout me aite
I'ma go and smoke my weed then come back and then, nah sike
Level high, nobody son'n Stellar Wind
So, never mind, right now I guess I'm goin' blind
'Cause no shit opinions from a shadow get to sip the shine jar
Ryan Edward Scissorhands cut a throat, refined art
Behind bars, gimme a pen pal and a pad, y'all
Got the industry in prison, lost the keys to all these pad locks
In their own mind rotting, I'm in the studio coughin'
Because my throat destroyed from stickin' every critic in a coffin
Which is very often
Paul Bearer, bearin' a Paul Bearer that's bare arming mad
I'm son of the south and they stuck inside of a square garden
Staring at 'em like a air marshal
Being fly as fuck I'm in the business like a air par-cel
Tongue like a machete bein' swung by the cartel, aww hell
Don't tell heaven I been killin' artists in this lane while they in their car still
Raised on "pop the trunk" so to the system everything I drop hot as hell
I'll kill you, and this soul not for sale, every track cannot derail
Call me and music a coalition edition position even though I'm picket-fence pale
My white neighbors call the law 'cause I been blazin' trails
Upchurch, the last name and I'ma leave a bleedin' Holy Grail
My daughter gonna be a savage mastermind with a pony tail
So, oh well, leavin' a folk tale
Family on a wave name one of my grand kids after a boat sail
Good luck swimmin' to the next coat tail
I done kicked so many asses they gonna evolve with to toe nails
They gonna tell my daughter I was a rogue male
When I was sippin' sizzurp out of a old well
Motherfucker, I'm hillbilly Appalachia history
Got the fire flame like thermite in Jack Daniels' distilleries
This country cousin nothin' but a valedictory
WWW.OnlyAttachedToVictory.com (Comma)
Lungs fulls the best American marijuana
For my enemies, all I roll is belladonna
So many wraps underground with this brain, Osama
Too fly airport won't let me wear a jacket, bomber
Even when I'm dead, I couldn't pay to be a goner
I guess reincarnation prolly my only sponsor to hip-hop
I'm an indestructible Apache helicopter
When I'm fifty, I'll be calculated, cock sucker
Processin' paradoxical, this energy is periodical
Tryna do me lead you to a mental hospital, period (Period)
Exclamation point, hold up, let me roll another joint
Level too high, rollin' stoned
'Til my tongue got wrapped around the engine hoist
Don't forget we them, we them, we them holler boys
Hillbilly, hillbilly out the Tonka toy
Tell a hater he don't like me, but his mama does
And I'm puffin' on a Swisher with the fuckin' fuzz
Eatin' dinner in your town with your fuckin' judge
If they don't care, then we don't, we don't, we don't give a fuck
I'm a state trooper, just a different breed
Dixielanders for life down south 'til the creek recedes
In 200 years, hear the bass knockin' from cedar trees
Coffin painted dark hunter green engraved with a HB
Repeat "When I get where I'm going", Parton and Paisley
Extract the urine from my bladder, pour it in the mainstream
Save a little for the business meetin' to mix inside of their mixed drink
PS, tell them bitches I didn't even need six strings
I ain't no Cash, ain't no Willie, ain't no Waylon, no shit
But ain't no Cash, Waylon or Willie an Upchurch, bitch
Mother, mother fucker
Yeah, talk that talk you talkin' 'bout me aite
I'ma go and smoke my weed then come back and then, nah sike
Level high, nobody son'n Stellar Wind
So, never mind, right now I guess I'm goin' blind
'Cause no shit opinions from a shadow get to sip the shine jar
Ryan Edward Scissorhands cut a throat, refined art
Behind bars, gimme a pen pal and a pad, y'all
Got the industry in prison, lost the keys to all these pad locks
In their own mind rotting, I'm in the studio coughin'
Because my throat destroyed from stickin' every critic in a coffin
Which is very often
Paul Bearer, bearin' a Paul Bearer that's bare arming mad
I'm son of the south and they stuck inside of a square garden
Staring at 'em like a air marshal
Being fly as fuck I'm in the business like a air par-cel
Tongue like a machete bein' swung by the cartel, aww hell
Don't tell heaven I been killin' artists in this lane while they in their car still
Raised on "pop the trunk" so to the system everything I drop hot as hell
I'll kill you, and this soul not for sale, every track cannot derail
Call me and music a coalition edition position even though I'm picket-fence pale
My white neighbors call the law 'cause I been blazin' trails
Upchurch, the last name and I'ma leave a bleedin' Holy Grail
My daughter gonna be a savage mastermind with a pony tail
So, oh well, leavin' a folk tale
Family on a wave name one of my grand kids after a boat sail
Good luck swimmin' to the next coat tail
I done kicked so many asses they gonna evolve with to toe nails
They gonna tell my daughter I was a rogue male
When I was sippin' sizzurp out of a old well
Motherfucker, I'm hillbilly Appalachia history
Got the fire flame like thermite in Jack Daniels' distilleries
This country cousin nothin' but a valedictory
WWW.OnlyAttachedToVictory.com (Comma)
Lungs fulls the best American marijuana
For my enemies, all I roll is belladonna
So many wraps underground with this brain, Osama
Too fly airport won't let me wear a jacket, bomber
Even when I'm dead, I couldn't pay to be a goner
I guess reincarnation prolly my only sponsor to hip-hop
I'm an indestructible Apache helicopter
When I'm fifty, I'll be calculated, cock sucker
Processin' paradoxical, this energy is periodical
Tryna do me lead you to a mental hospital, period (Period)
Exclamation point, hold up, let me roll another joint
Level too high, rollin' stoned
'Til my tongue got wrapped around the engine hoist
Don't forget we them, we them, we them holler boys
Hillbilly, hillbilly out the Tonka toy
Tell a hater he don't like me, but his mama does
And I'm puffin' on a Swisher with the fuckin' fuzz
Eatin' dinner in your town with your fuckin' judge
If they don't care, then we don't, we don't, we don't give a fuck
I'm a state trooper, just a different breed
Dixielanders for life down south 'til the creek recedes
In 200 years, hear the bass knockin' from cedar trees
Coffin painted dark hunter green engraved with a HB
Repeat "When I get where I'm going", Parton and Paisley
Extract the urine from my bladder, pour it in the mainstream
Save a little for the business meetin' to mix inside of their mixed drink
PS, tell them bitches I didn't even need six strings
I ain't no Cash, ain't no Willie, ain't no Waylon, no shit
But ain't no Cash, Waylon or Willie an Upchurch, bitch
