| Neck too red
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| My neck’s too red
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| They said my neck’s too red
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| Yeah, they said my dream was a dead end
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| They said people like me don’t trend, said my slang won’t ever get aired
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| They said my neck was too red
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| Neck too red
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| Boy, your neck’s too red
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| My neck’s too red
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| My town 90% white, blame God for my Southern roots
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| Thank him also 'cause I got the juice, leavin' marks all on these music dudes
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| Like burnouts do with a 302, we them, we them, we them holler boys
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| Tatted-up, missin' teeth and scars, gang shit off the front, boy
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| Grew up on a blow torch, we ain’t know no Scott Stortch
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| All we knew was, case of beers, and some race cars
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| Alpha male with the straight bars, Dixie made me do it like I do
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| And if you got a problem with my side of town, just know we ain;
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| 't finna budge for you
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| They said my neck’s too red
|
| Yeah, they said my dream was a dead end
|
| They said people like me don’t trend, said my slang won’t ever get aired
|
| They said my neck was too red
|
| Neck too red
|
| Boy, your neck’s too red
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| My neck’s too red
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| They gon' have to wait 'til I die, I done made it up too high
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| With this system, I won’t comply, no rich folks can bribe me with rides
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| I done bought 'em all and left 'em in a field, shit my daily-driver is a rat rod
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| The day I’s born in Music City is the day that mainstream got outlawed
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| Give the Devil death stares, I ain’t ever scared
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| Roll with me or without me, either way, I’m still here
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| Yeah, I’m still here, goin' on like ten years
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| Up-mother-motherfuckin'-Church, 615 'til I’m outta here
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| They said my neck’s too red
|
| Yeah, they said my dream was a dead end
|
| They said people like me don’t trend, said my slang won’t ever get aired
|
| They said my neck was too red
|
| Neck too red
|
| Boy, your neck’s too red
|
| My neck’s too red |