Upchurch - Son Of The South Lyrics

Yeah I'm the son of the south
Blood crimson red (yeah)
Blue jeans faded with
The grease-stained hands (yeah)
Scars on my knuckles and that's
Still who I am (yeah)
Don't come over here
Disrespectin' my homeland my homeland, yeah

Yeah, when the shit goes down
I'll be somewhere with a hundred
Thousand gun shot rounds
With a railroad car covered up in the ground
With a barbed wire fence wrapped all
The way around my house
Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, 80 model high rise
Snipers spittin' beech nut from
A hilltop rise
Yeah, motherfucker, everybody's on my team
Bikers, OG's, Klan members and the police
And everybody's still figurin' out
What's on the news
And they do this shit on purpose
Who ain't even got a clue
White lives, black lives
And the blue matter too
So point your gun across the sea and
Let's just stand as a group
'Cause they got people tryna kill
Us 'cause our fuckin' beliefs
And towelheads in the subway with
A bomb in their briefs
So let's cut the bullshit and
Stand for all our people
And cut some motherfuckin' throats
Let them bleed 'til we're equal

Yeah I'm the son of the south
Blood crimson red blue jeans faded with
The grease-stained hands
Scars on my knuckles and that's
Still who I am don't come over here
Disrespectin' my homeland my homeland, yeah

Thunder bar runnin' I'm the
Man behind the curtain got a fuck you
I don't even know you attitude for certain
I'm just tryna find my purpose while
The vultures fly around my head
Tellin' me the things I can
Do to darn prove myself
Friends fallin' off of the face of the Earth
'Cause they don't know how to act
That I made myself somethin'
I'm unity bustin' southern
Motherfucker for real
And I live by the home flag, die by the steel
Gunpowder and kerosene, grenades and pride
And if you tryna harm my country
Then you in for a ride
And we don't bury you bitches we just
Throw you up in the fire
That's the smell of sweet freedom
USA 'til I die

Yeah I'm the son of the south
Blood crimson red blue jeans faded with
The grease-stained hands
Scars on my knuckles and that's
Still who I am don't come over here
Disrespectin' my homeland my homeland, yeah
My homeland, my homeland, my homeland
(yeah my homeland, yeah my homeland)
My homeland
(yeah my homeland, yeah my homeland)

Yeah I'm the son of the south
Blood crimson red blue jeans faded with
The grease-stained hands
Scars on my knuckles and that's
Still who I am don't come over here
Disrespectin' my homeland (yeah my homeland)
My homeland