Lyrics Back Roads - Nappy Roots

Back Roads

Back roads, country shit
Rollin' dope, bunch of shit
Granny house, 30 deep
Gold teeth, bare feet
Where I go you never know
A country road you’ll never go
24s, country shit
All we know is country shit
Back road, country shit
I’m rollin' dope, gotta bunch of shit
My neighbor just got home, but not from a bid
He been overseas fighting, now home wit his kids
The rich can’t feel like the poorest
We was Po eating grits at my aunt Lois
Had the time of my life we was so stoic
Didn’t have much but you wouldn’t know it
Now granny gone, my uncle gone
I’m runnin' out of reasons to make it back home
To my family looking down from the heavens above
See me rolling thru the sticks just doing what I love
On a back road, country shit
Rollin' dope, bunch of shit
Granny house, 30 deep
Gold teeth, bare feet
Where I go you never know
A country road you’ll never go
24s, country shit
All we know is country shit
Train tracks, I’m from the other side
Caddy Coupes, we blowing country fried
Winding roads, and not a cop in sight
Stars out, shining on your darkest night
Small town living, all they do is fight
And all we do is 'dis, sawed off with the pistol grip
Back it up, then talk yo' shit
She’s acting up, she’s not yo' bitch
Country chic, that’s not my cousin
Don’t hit the legion, them fools be bussin'
Front porch, my uncle cussing
Drunk as all out doors, kids outside they double dutching
I’m double clutching, sippin' on some Atlantucky
My family is forever hustling, forward, the plan it must be
No looking back, there’s no getting rusty
If I’m a speak it to existence you gon' have to trust me
I understand, new things need adjusting
Life is short, it ain’t no guarantee, just keep on trucking
Back road, country shit
Rollin' dope, bunch of shit
Granny house, 30 deep
Gold teeth, bare feet
Where I go you never know
A country road you’ll never go
24s, country shit
All we know is country shit
And yea I’m from the South but I dress Western
They call me Buffalo, I’m built like a ex-wrestler
Brock Lesnar, ice on my hip flexor
Jacuzzi suite, top floor at the Best Western
Dusty cowboy boots wit a fresh Stetson
Lumps of coal turn to diamonds when you add pressure
Catch me running thru my paper like a fast tester
I want da new King Ranch, not the next Tesla
First class jet setter, I ain’t that special
Buddy pass in the exit row, leg stretcher
I’m a seafood, soul food TexMexer
So keep ya tofu, soybean, veg lecturers
To yourself cuz my mouth can’t stand the texture
Flick you off wit both hands like I’m ambidextrous
Got my good draws on and they polyester
Eyeing down your heifer makin' naughty gestures
Country shit
Back road, country shit
Rollin' dope, bunch of shit
Granny house, 30 deep
Gold teeth, bare feet
Where I go you never know
A country road you’ll never go
24s, country shit
All we know is country shit