I was seven with affection for my grandfather’s personal collection
I grip the smith n Wesson,
I'm bustin’ cans in the back
Back of the woods, packin’ the goods, packin’ the wood
Four o'clock we had our private sessions,
Busting off aggression is a rural thing,
Back room smellin’ stank from the moonshine being made
Became an adolescent,
Mind state domestic,
A bit of pessimist, wondering if I'll ever change
I'm comin’ to cope with the fact that I'm never gonna make a million, but I plan on moving past that
Rap today is half assed, so in the end
Under my breath, the last laugh risen from is cat nap,
Match that
I'm perceived as thug,
Believe that bogus
These colours that I masked
Are screaming “Come show it”
This fucking white trash, cooking dinner smashed, bogie lit, bucket cap to the back,
This evil twin is here, now at last

I'm in the back woods shooting 22’s with my grandfather
It’s a rural thing,
It’s a fucking rural thing
Tattoo in the back room, moonshine made
It’s a rural thing
It’s a fucking a rural thing
Back pack, bogie lit, bucky hat, chewin’ hay
It’s rural thing
It’s a fucking rural thing
I'm in the back woods, shooting 22’s with my grandfather
It’s a mawfuckin’ rural thing
The same Broken bottle from the hallow tip my dad swallow in the model whip, afraid to bother him
Coming to think of it now we the polar opposites
Drinking a fifth,
Letting it pour down
Our esophagus
When the liquor hits, I'm throwing fists, my common sense becomes a mosh pit
My dad pulled the 45 screaming “Let it rip”
My Trigger finger itching within seconds when I seen he took the 357 with him
He had to hold my arms cause the kicks almost split my fucking wrist,
Shit was intense
He looked me in the fucking eye n said
“This could blow lions head, don't you fuck with it boy,
This a real man’s gun, no this ain’t no fucking toy”
I’m taking the mic, n I'm grippin’ n telling my story, lookin’ upon the gory scenes you might of thought I was corny surely,
I'm in the back field, acting like this a fucking shooting range
Tell your rents, “I'm your worst nightmare, bitch”

I'm in the back woods shooting 22’s with my grandfather
It’s a rural thing,
It’s a fucking rural thing
Tattoo in the back room, moonshine made
It’s a rural thing
It’s a fucking a rural thing
Back pack, bogie lit, bucky hat, chewin’ hay
It’s rural thing
It’s a fucking rural thing
I'm in the back woods, shooting 22’s with my grandfather
It’s a mawfuckin’ rural thing