He's comin' with nothin' but fire Fire, fire, fire Fire and then after that I seen him comin' around the corner with another stack of wood for the fire Church Creek Squad motherfucker Uh, let's get it I heard some people got a problem, well let me get the match then I think you need a light to see you're sittin' in a wolf den I'm more positive I got blood drippin' off of my chin Kickin' up the mud like a wild boar inside a pig pen You couldn't divide me from hip-hop even if you emptied my dividends I was broke and livin' up under a bridge Still record an album on a phone and the thing Homeless Volume 1, no cap, I'll make that underpass a home bitch Uh, my style lingerin' now Baby Face Nelson shootin' every single cash cow Most these rappers commercial, like "It's my money, I need it now" Fuck money, so what, I'm too busy gettin' turnt up Can we turn up green Church snatchin' rappers like a tow truck I'm horny in hip-hop and like the morning Sunday young bucks And if you cross my headlights that brush guard'll get you fucked up I turn my haters into country singers who wear pink shirts I'm a hurricane and a half, the Johnny to the Cash Tsunami to the water, submarine to a splash Give me that pad again, it's time to get on my rappin' shit I just got done recordin' classics with a banjo and a mandolin If there's an obstacle I'm smashin', attackin' Regardless of my weight or my asthma I got AC-30 shells, pack it down in a pinpoint I've been practicin' practically on a raft with a raft White waters what I'm finna drown you with And that's a river rat fact I ran through every bit of backlash Glad bag me motherfucker, yeah I'm white trash All I need now is a scissor cut mullet A cool cut-off shirt that says "Church said fuggem" Just to let y'all know I'm feelin' happy again I deleted half my contacts now I feel more content So everybody better swerve unless you lookin' for a dent I'm The General 'round here but I can't give you no insurance Don't be grabbin' the microphone if you go hard as a micro bone My platform hella big but my circle fits in a mobile home Mind power tough when I'm Home Alone No Macaulay Culkin but I'm caulkin' the cracks in the open doors Like I'm still doin' construction, just walked in the rap scene Looked around for a minute, went back to the country Met some rock dudes, chill and smoke a joint out back Went home while Creeker charted top five three weeks and a half And that scary from the wolves But I stay dustin' 'em off with rooster feathers as we speak From this point I ain't doin' no fuckin' snippets or leaks Gotta keep it real to get a feature with me I ain't no Stuart Little boy and I ain't lookin' for cheese Give a fuck if his cheddar, swiss, or parmesan with garlic and shit No new friends, good chillin' in the cut though Can't be with this fifty 'cause I like hangin' with the cutthroats I don't feel like babblin', my point I have established is So when your homies ask "What the hell is all that racket skin?" Just tell 'em it's a fella with an orange "V" on his sweater Volunteered to be a beast up on the microphone whenever No matter the weather, sun, sleet, or eruptin' volcano Who chews tobacco and swallows dip just to clear out his vocals Who likes to Stone Cold Stunna motherfuckers through WrestleMania tables Fuck the system and the God damn labels Church (Church, Church, Church)