Lyrics Upchurch – Where You From
Text:
Shit
You know we leaders in this shit
We know the way, go the way and show the way for those who follow
Come take a walk, see where we from
It’s been a long time coming (Come on) and this boy still drumming (Let’s get it)
Hell, I bet you motherfuckers thought you saw the end coming (Hell no)
Been a artist in this market, while y’all just getting started
Separated from the fakes, call ’em my dearly departed
I’m best under stress so I’m fucking with friction (I get it)
With a tank full of gas on the road to the riches (Let’s go)
In a jacked-up Chevy with a cab full of bitches (Hey)
Slinging mud on the world, country boy on a mission (You know it)
I’m from Tennessee (Tennessee) and it pumps to my veins
Where barbed wire replaces concrete in the chains
Where handshakes are hugs, we fly our own flags (Let’s go)
The home of home-grown and trailer park labs
I just hit up ‘Church, told him meet me at the let out (Soak in)
I’ll be in a K-5 you should bring the ‘Vette out
Seeing folks Snapchatting live when we get out (We live)
Tennessee country boys, the rest are just sell outs
Where you from? Where I’m from? The stix of the TN
And I can take you several places most people never been
Where you from? Where I’m from? The heart of the south
Where a fist of sweet potato pie could shut your mouth
Where we from? Where we from? The land of the mud
And if you want it best believe that you can get it from us
Where we from? Where we from? Dirt roads and back woods
By the county line (Yeah) round them Tennessee hoods
I’m from that bogging dirty, Chevy swerving, 26s on the ‘Burban
Hit the stage like Elvis Presley, you won’t ever catch me nervous
Where the dead bodies get covered up by rednecks with them backhoes
From a itty bitty town in the middle of the map, where the Chevrolets shine and the tailpipes clap
When I ride through town girls break they neck trying to get a little glimpse of the man in black
Smoke rolling out of that cracked glass like tobacco barns on a back road
Craigslist game looking too strong, got a Bow Tie show on my front yard
And I ain’t ever had no risk game but I’m rolling the VDA dish game
Your girl wanna ride like a puppy dog but shit I forgot that bitch name
Got a devilish nine, these snakeskins, you might get the venom messing with me
I’m on my Big Smo shit, bitch, when I’m kicking it in Tennessee
I’m a balls-ripping, square-dancing, square body, mud-slinging
Shit-talking, gun-spraying Cheatham country crazy hick
With a little hit of that Bocephus, want some then come see us
I stay looking for them throats to slit, everyday I wake up it’s hunting season
Where you from? Where I’m from? Small town in the pines
With guns like the military, everyone of ’em mine
Where you from? Where I’m from? My home sweet home
Them 32 acres, every inch I own
Where we from? Where we from? That Volunteer State
What you see is what it is, we’ll bring it straight to your face
Where we from? Where we from? From Bedford and Cheatham
My people are your people and they gonna swarm when we need them (Oh yeah)
Man, these punks ain’t got shit on us Smo
What these motherfuckers know about that Tennessee shit?
Yeah
Tri-Star motherfucker