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0-100 Remix

by Upchurch

[Intro]
I told y'all fans on instagram that I was gonna do this for y'all so
Here's 0-100 son

0-100 that's easy I done did it
Then the sheriff picked me up and my license is now suspended
They confiscated my weed and sent my truck down to the impound
Now I got a couple toys smokin' on that real loud
Aw yeah! Dual exhaust and the swisher sweet
Smelling like a 12 valve Cummins from way down the street
No break pads I ain't stopping I'm a miss these trees
Kinda hard to do when you living down in Tennessee (sh*t)
I'm Peyton manning on a bad day
Throwing Hail Marys while I'm p*ssing in my driveway
Staying to myself and approaching the game my way
I came up in this b*tch smoking tires sliding sideways
Yeah, got ammunition for the ones who b*tchin'
This is my ambition I'm hearing opponents motors tickin'
Haters eat my music up I guess my sh*t is finger lickin'
I stay standing tall like a truck with a f*cking welded lift kit
Damn my voice louder than my stacks are
Feeling like a monster truck surrounded by some smarts cars
Resembling the county jail cause all I got is slick bars
Tougher than a big body caprice that is a derby car
sh*t, it's okay I know you envy me
I'm hick-hop's legend son you know that I'm that MVP
I'm getting text messages from folks who work at MTV
And hanging out with people who stay singing up on CMT
People use to tell me "church do it for the vine tho"
They didn't have a clue that I can clean a deer blindfold
They took me as a joke and now nobody's laughing
I'm that hillbilly boy that be grabbing up all the action
I'm a redneck with a passion for country lyrics and rapping
You can call my ass a turtle but only because I'm snapping
I'm sinking the sickest hooks in these swamps that they say are dangerous
Slaying these mother f*ckers who use to think they was gangster
Ha! sh*t! I'm digging holes b*tch, gopher it
Mr. Upchurch explaining what the f*ck a poser is
I didn't step in bass pro until my ass got older kids
Cause mama didn't have the dough to go and buy expensive sh*t
So I was rocking goodwill but I really didn't give a damn
Cause I was raised off realness and to earn the cash with working hands
My lyrics so cold I wear a Carhartt in the summertime
And I stay cutting down some trees and roll em up in swisher wine
Yeah! f*ck money, I want my respect
I feel like Jason Voorhees in a corn field picking who is next
My pen is my machete let me draw a line across your neck
And demonstrate to everybody rednecks are some savages
I heard Alan Jackson on my daddy's radio
And ever since I wanted nothing but to spit that country flow
The mouth of the south aw hell everybody knows
I'm known for p*ssing people off in my Facebook videos
Folks who think I got it made ain't living in my mosh pit
Me and mama pinching pennies out the Pontiac sh*t
Gallon of milk off in the seat and a loaf of bread in the floorboard
And people wonder why I'm such a di*k head to you fame whores

[Outro]
Chicken Willie on the way son
Y'all don't know me
Better rip these lyrics up so nobody copies 'em