Go ahead, run full force Shut up and sit down, motherfucker (Yeah) Which one is it y'all don't know about (Easy) Ain't we all just some assholes (Uh huh) This is like a midget versus Matt Serra Then tell the person who made this crap (Ghost, I'm a ghost, I'm a ghost) Got 'em thinkin' "Who the fuck is this fella?" Lookin' at me shakin' they jugheads (Oh my God) I'm that ghost appearin' in your fuckin' dreams [Intro] Comin up to the mic in overalls Like uncooked meat at a steakhouse I'm a generous guy, givin' mo' clout Like a El Camino full of damn amigos Nobody in this lane want it with me . Church Eh, bro, why the shaky knees? And I'm blowin' up my accomplishments Up I ain't finna wipe, I'm rollin' Elm Street. Got everybody lookin' like, "Dang, son!" And they gettin' weak at the sight of me (Oh) Country rap is in this (Yo) bitch now! Dog, Freddy Krueger fuckin' scared of me That's why my songs are a fuckin brawl My manager thinks I need counselors I throw diarrhea at your household My career got a clean title So, I dont know why he's wastin' his time, you know Fucking Got black dudes like "Goddamn!" And hittin' the fryin' pan with every seed Bitch, get the fuck off of my lawn Like, this whole country rap thing, I don't get it, man Church And I still say I might do it for Dale I'm Upchurch, got 'em butthurt With my farmer's tan and my southern drawl (Hey y'all) [Verse] You can't fuck me, I can only fuck myself (Uhh) But fuck the help and fuck the shelf [Upchurch:] Yeah, throw it in the oven, crank it a thousand degrees In the middle of the farm around a bunch of dried out leaves And watch me stand in the middle with a microphone and the dreams With that backwoods fire, I'm on my Gatlinburg chill I'm in the trees with the only demon I talk to in the industry I'ma need to get my refund now (Sorry) Yeah, everybody got a damn opinion And add a bit of this antifreeze I'm more spectacular than Dracula Got white people with rich kids I'll throw a dildo into your vocal chords I'm that ghost appearin' in your fuckin' dreams. I'm sick in the head but the rhymes I spit I rock rebel flags and don't give a shit On your porch, months after Halloween (Ha ha ha) 'Cause I'll chew 'em up and I'll spit 'em out Actually let me pour you a cup My rap album's like horror films 'Cause my competition is noddin' out (Hah) Then say, Stoney, stop this beat I voted Trump and built big walls (Check) Happens every day of the week Work my way to the big stars (Alright) Gonna change my rap name to Jigsaw (Uh huh) Got Asian guys like, "Hory Shit!" Somebody go grab the T.P.