Upchurch - HI-DEAS 7 lyrics
[Upchurch - HI-DEAS 7 lyrics]
Hello? Hey, Ryan, uh
We're just wondering if you're still coming
In today about 4 o'clock
We really wanna get you in and get you
Get you goin' with the team and, uh (Uh)
You know (Get you in) i I can't
I got a really important meeting
With these fat Michelin tires
And this fuckin' blunt (Uh, can can we?) no
I woke up this mornin' with a text
From a guy at a place
The Devil must have moved back from GA
I got invited to a meetin'
I got stoned and I showed up
And they gave me a piece of paper
That said "You wanna come get fucked?"
Hey, I like to play stupido
And I put away torpedoes
Then I save 'em when it's time to go
I blow up battlefields
Ayy, Battleship, Battleship, Battleship
All my boats are fuckin' floatin'
They said, "We'll get you in that Lambo
" so I went and bought one
That 2016 Huracán gon' look hella
Good on my independent ass
Own all my own masters
No teardrops on my Dre Beats
And that's hard facts
Look what you made me do
You'll need a swift tailor to match me
The weed burns in my hoodie down
In the gulch you're fuckin' smashin'
You know, it's funny
And it's easy to put on this fake facade
That you couldn't bullshit a
Country boy as bad
As a millionaire and that's fuckin' honest
I'm glad I stayed at the bottom
The top cannot come hang with us
I'm gonna text Wrap Lab at
Noon tomorrow and tell
Him I need Mossy Oak in this new car
I need Duke Orange on all the seats
With a window sticker that just says
"My name's on this fuckin' title
But not in your pocket, man"
I don't need no Big Machine
I created a huge engine
No push button start
There's screwdrivers in my ignition
So, whapah, whapah
Who wanna race for the pinks?
I could lose all day and still
Drive home in something clean
And I'm still runnin' the roads
Not controlled by the mainstream
I swear they send me contracts
To eliminate Mr tennessee
Check this out, in that case
Here is my reply fuck every record label
Even ones my friends signed
You can't persuade me with no condos
And the viewing of your rides
This is where I take my shotgun
And draw the Florida-Georgia line
Don't take that step, it might be
A trap, you might get burnt
You might get zapped
It might be a video of Hi-Deas soundin'
Just like that damn Haze Ville track
You ride a coat, I drive a Ford
You got the tires, I got the bow
I was born where these Indians roam
I start fire with flint and make damn arrows
What the hell these people think?
That I'm just a pawn in a chess game?
I got Cheatham tatted on my chest
No jet lag, I'm a jet plane
No TV show promotin' my name
No face plastered, no radio play
But I still make 'em mix up Eric Church
And what's-his name, that Church man
'Cause I stay preachin', no Walter stan
There's a Holy Ghost as my side man
He's a good profiler
Spent plenty time gettin' hated
On in Afghanistan go Army, no zombies
And we don't build no barricades
We put lift kit's on Escalades and
Scratch up that beautiful paint
I'm white trash ballin'
Call me Billy Ray virus
Ain't stoppin' for nobody like
Some run flat tires go ahead and sling the
Spike strip out, really
Really go grab the mic
Bruce Wayne of NashVegas in that matte
Black rollin' through at night
I've been a winner and a loser
I've been poor and now I'm rich
But I'll be damned if all this money
Makes me act just like a prick
I'd rather go to sleep hungry in
The back of a Buick
With the engine blowed up, gas on E
With Coca-Cola added to it
Church, don't forget the name, crooked grin
Tobacco stains
Tennessee Titan bleedin' orange with a black
And tan beside my leg
Country steak, fried eggs, sweet
Tea with no lemon, bae
After this there's no chance of
Me goin' to the CMAs
Well, good thing I don't give a fuck
My livin' room don't got television
They must not have Googled me and
Scrolled back to the very beginnin'
Look guys, we did it-did it, God damn right
We winnin'-winnin'
No talk shows, no interviews, no
Airplay, we fuckin' did it, church
Yo, I didn't graduate, man
I used to hate on my fucking self
I used to let people fucking shit on
Me all the God damn time not no more, dog
The mastiff broke the chain link church
We're just wondering if you're still coming
In today about 4 o'clock
We really wanna get you in and get you
Get you goin' with the team and, uh (Uh)
You know (Get you in) i I can't
I got a really important meeting
With these fat Michelin tires
And this fuckin' blunt (Uh, can can we?) no
I woke up this mornin' with a text
From a guy at a place
The Devil must have moved back from GA
I got invited to a meetin'
I got stoned and I showed up
And they gave me a piece of paper
That said "You wanna come get fucked?"
Hey, I like to play stupido
And I put away torpedoes
Then I save 'em when it's time to go
I blow up battlefields
Ayy, Battleship, Battleship, Battleship
All my boats are fuckin' floatin'
They said, "We'll get you in that Lambo
" so I went and bought one
That 2016 Huracán gon' look hella
Good on my independent ass
Own all my own masters
No teardrops on my Dre Beats
And that's hard facts
Look what you made me do
You'll need a swift tailor to match me
The weed burns in my hoodie down
In the gulch you're fuckin' smashin'
You know, it's funny
And it's easy to put on this fake facade
That you couldn't bullshit a
Country boy as bad
As a millionaire and that's fuckin' honest
I'm glad I stayed at the bottom
The top cannot come hang with us
I'm gonna text Wrap Lab at
Noon tomorrow and tell
Him I need Mossy Oak in this new car
I need Duke Orange on all the seats
With a window sticker that just says
"My name's on this fuckin' title
But not in your pocket, man"
I don't need no Big Machine
I created a huge engine
No push button start
There's screwdrivers in my ignition
So, whapah, whapah
Who wanna race for the pinks?
I could lose all day and still
Drive home in something clean
And I'm still runnin' the roads
Not controlled by the mainstream
I swear they send me contracts
To eliminate Mr tennessee
Check this out, in that case
Here is my reply fuck every record label
Even ones my friends signed
You can't persuade me with no condos
And the viewing of your rides
This is where I take my shotgun
And draw the Florida-Georgia line
Don't take that step, it might be
A trap, you might get burnt
You might get zapped
It might be a video of Hi-Deas soundin'
Just like that damn Haze Ville track
You ride a coat, I drive a Ford
You got the tires, I got the bow
I was born where these Indians roam
I start fire with flint and make damn arrows
What the hell these people think?
That I'm just a pawn in a chess game?
I got Cheatham tatted on my chest
No jet lag, I'm a jet plane
No TV show promotin' my name
No face plastered, no radio play
But I still make 'em mix up Eric Church
And what's-his name, that Church man
'Cause I stay preachin', no Walter stan
There's a Holy Ghost as my side man
He's a good profiler
Spent plenty time gettin' hated
On in Afghanistan go Army, no zombies
And we don't build no barricades
We put lift kit's on Escalades and
Scratch up that beautiful paint
I'm white trash ballin'
Call me Billy Ray virus
Ain't stoppin' for nobody like
Some run flat tires go ahead and sling the
Spike strip out, really
Really go grab the mic
Bruce Wayne of NashVegas in that matte
Black rollin' through at night
I've been a winner and a loser
I've been poor and now I'm rich
But I'll be damned if all this money
Makes me act just like a prick
I'd rather go to sleep hungry in
The back of a Buick
With the engine blowed up, gas on E
With Coca-Cola added to it
Church, don't forget the name, crooked grin
Tobacco stains
Tennessee Titan bleedin' orange with a black
And tan beside my leg
Country steak, fried eggs, sweet
Tea with no lemon, bae
After this there's no chance of
Me goin' to the CMAs
Well, good thing I don't give a fuck
My livin' room don't got television
They must not have Googled me and
Scrolled back to the very beginnin'
Look guys, we did it-did it, God damn right
We winnin'-winnin'
No talk shows, no interviews, no
Airplay, we fuckin' did it, church
Yo, I didn't graduate, man
I used to hate on my fucking self
I used to let people fucking shit on
Me all the God damn time not no more, dog
The mastiff broke the chain link church