[Intro: Aaron Keese]
Yo, Aaron, let's get 'em
[Verse 1: EP Music]
Yo, I was born in 92 with a fuckin' chip on my shoulder
But I learned to apply it and use it in music as I got older
Born in the South (Wake up), but just want to say that it can get colder
Go to war on the beat, got the fuckin' heart of a soldier
And I'll fight to defend my right to play and write I want
I'm an artist, authentic, I'm everything that you're not
It's in my blood so don't you try and tell me I'm doin' it wrong
'Cause I'll start name droppin' (Yep) and put you in a song
I'll be comin' for your throat, you don't want the smoke
Came a long way, but got a ways to go
You can make it rain, I can make it snow
You can take the fame, I'ma take control
Oh, is that right, I should stick to rock and just not rhyme
I should quit and fall back in line
Have you gone and lost your god damn mind
I'm not afraid to be a renegade
A snake bite but my tongue is a switchblade
I'ma be self made, voice of a decade
Y'all keep on keep sippin' that Kool-Aid
I like tea but you know I like it homemade
I'm a bit insane but I got pen games
Fuck your opinion, I'ma do it my way
Stand on your own feet, get outta my face
Nobody gonna put their hands on my music
You do and you'll lose 'em
I'm tryna start a whole 'nother movement
And if you disagree, that's fine, just keep it movin'
Or else it's me and you motherfucker
Consume the consumer, let's go
[Verse 2: Aaron Keese]
Cowboy struttin' on the scene, I'm askin' who want it?
I got my spurs ring-dingin', yeah, them posters say wanted
I've been ridin' through that desert on a horse with no name
And it's feelin' pretty good to have control of the reigns
Last year I threw some bombs, cause I had nothing to lose
This year, the same thing, except I've shortened the fuse
There ain't no ticks around me, bitch, and I keep my pack tight
We rippin' heads off the mothafuckas that try and take a bite
Yo, I've earned my plate, you can't feed with me
Where were you when I was the one hungry
You were probably laughin' at my country
Drawl spittin' bars, and now you want money
Nah, fuck that, you didn't help me cook this meal
And you damn sure can't afford to get in on the bill
Y'all were lookin' over me when I started this shit
And one day, I'll be too big, that you'll drown in my fuckin' spit
Like some ants, y'all mothafuckas need to go form a line
And wait your turn to get on this hill that you'll have to climb
To even get on my level, let's change that hill to a mountain
With lava flowin' out the crater, I'll be burnin' all those doubtin'
I'll be baggin' the ring of the game, and my eye sees all
So run, bitch, 'cause I'll be passin' while you fall
Fuck all the haters, and keep my name out your mouth
You won't ever take my white trash ass out
I was born in the deep deep deep deep south
You don't want me to lay that hammer down
'Cause I'll *gunshots*, 'til you get the fuckin' message
I'm elaborate with these murders, bitch, I'm going for the seven
These rappers suckin' dick, because all they want is wealth
They are jealous and their anger isn't good for their health
They can't take pride in themselves, they consume the negativity
Portray their failures on others instead of productivity
Man, fuck, now don't be comin' at me
I'm just a small town country kid that is tryna live out his dreams
And I'm gonna do that shit regardless, retarded artists ain't stoppin' me
Smashin' helmets, give concussions, how many fingers do ya see?
Ya bitch, I need you to read between the lines
Fuck you and your labels, my white ass will never sign
The only thing that I'll sign is your name on the hit list
If you ever question or doubt that I can do this rap shit
KEESE
