Bubba Sparxxx - Country Folks lyrics

I might talk slow But I'm feelin fine Cause them kuntry folks sho can ryme Ain't got no ice Cause without it I shine And them kuntry folks sho can rhyme Aw Hell, They done let me loose And I'm doin just what they thought I'd do With a 5th of beam And I ate a roll N' I'm outta control You should've brought me two I started you With them heated vocals Don't you cross them weeded locals sponsored links My niece on wall street With a balla's creep N' it's all sweet But'chall weep cause Monday through Sunday ooh Ya'll dummies too Don't complain Just know ya roll Bad a** lil playa be going on I sold my soul For a "G" advance A white, a quarter N' some peter pan Now I'm broke again With Duddy Ken N' we out of gin Gonna need a chance Can't even dance When I wil' at life That time of night Shinin' light In the southern sky Plus I'm high Singing these tallboy's lullaby I nullify your whole existance In an instance With no resistance New Sparxxx? Bubba K Don't know what to say Cause I smoked him senseless So defenseless, a baby goose On the discovery channel At 3am Life is some ol' country bum Betcha wanted fun But we ain't them Got all blazed And I got with' Duddy Jumped in made the water muddy These kuntry folks sure can rhyme It's our time Keep snoozing buddy [Chorus:] I might talk slow But I'm feelin fine Cause them kuntry folks sho can ryme Ain't got no ice Cause without it I shine And them kuntry folks sho can rhyme I smoke homegrown and I drank cheap wine Cause them kuntry folks sho can rhyme You can tell me to change, but you'd be wastin your time Cause them kuntry folks sho can rhyme I ain't got no hoe No blow, no dough But got a lot of game to spit at your hoe Fleetwood cadillac four-door Steppin out the back with a cream Polo The Mack tight With a bang for the act rite Boys on with my calls with my gat tight Could'ntfind a phillie blunt better packed tight Duddy Kin, blow like wind Kuntry folks do kuntry things Why ya'll gotta be knocking me I'm on the thang to the fifth a'grain Gittin foul blitzed Inna bought caprice With a box of Sweets Automatic from the static Back seat beautiful chick with fat rabbits We mark beats like a prodigy's habit Yo style ain't sh** My swisher ain't fattest Wanna get crunk I'm a crank it up with ya Wanna rap I'll git ya D to the U double D Y Ken Fakin rock-steady like the Wizards With the gift to gab Up in the lab Choppin up track Fo – fo mag (forty-four mag) Playin the Chrome As the spot wears on Polo down, versaci long It's real folk Take care and heed Please don't make me say it twice ATH GA baby Ya'll lil n***as better play it rite Now what it is Tell me what it gonna be How you gonna do it Cus I'm down for dyin' I'm a Georgia hog slash bulldog Who might talk slow but shure can rhyme [Chorus]