In this collaboration between Upchurch and Boosie Badazz, the artists emphasize their distinctive lifestyles and personal values. The lyrics convey a sense of exclusivity and authenticity, as they delineate clear boundaries regarding who can participate in their lives. Upchurch's verses highlight his commitment to his country roots and independence, underscoring that he remains unchangeable despite success. He contrasts himself with mainstream figures, asserting his uniqueness and resilience. Boosie Badazz complements this narrative by celebrating financial success and loyalty among friends while maintaining a down-to-earth demeanor. The repeated refrain "Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad" serves as a patriotic affirmation of their identity 🏞️. Overall, the song champions self-reliance, authenticity, and a blend of country and gangster ethos 🚜.
YZ Remix
Lyrics
Ayy
Church (Up-motherfuckin'-church)
Creek Squad
You can't ride in my Range Rover
You can't smoke on my Jane clover
You can't come to my crib, joker
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord (Church)
Still can't ride with me, but now it's different, I ain't driving
In the back seat of my Phantom with the curtain down and vibing
On my country boy shit, some things don't never change
That's why I walk around the 'Ville with a pistol rocking these chains, cuz
Ain't no country singers dangerous, locals never change up
Grimy from the jump, can't make a volunteer go bankrupt
Rockstar of the holler, can't move me with dots or commas
Untouchable to ones who never had to bust ass for dollars
I don't care what you on, I don't care what you got
All I care is if you 'bout it and if you the type to be bought
Won't catch me around no people dressing up for television
When I put on something snazzy, I'm shooting birds or these bitches, Church
You can't ride in my Range Rover
You can't smoke on my Jane clover
You can't come to my crib, joker
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord
Gettin' money, all hundreds, all I know is gettin' money
Rubber band bands 'round my band, I gotta have that money
Big fine, top of the line, yeah, that's how I like my woman
Love to shake her ass in the club, Louisiana country
You know we gon' show out when we go out
Well, turn this bitch up then (Turn up)
You ain't gotta pay for shit, we lit, and bring your friend
Big tall racks, trucks all black, money team
White, brown, black, I don't see none of that, all I see is green
If you my dog, you could smoke weed in my house, nigga
Go up in the backyard and fuck with the dogs, nigga
Wanna shoot some dice, I'm gon' go get Tootie Raww, nigga
Boosie pictures on the wall, my floors like bowling balls, nigga
You can't ride in my Range Rover
You can't smoke on my Jane clover
You can't come to my crib, joker
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Red, white, blue, neck, skin, collar, creek squad
Some people keep it gangster, I just keep it country, oh, Lord
Writer(s): Ryan Upchurch, Thomas Toner, Torrence Hatch Jr.
Copyright(s): Lyrics © NOREMAC MEDIA GROUP
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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