Conspiracy Lyrics - Upchurch

Yeah, yeah 

Church 

Man, I know I'm getting stupid hella 

views, closet got about a hundred pair of boots 

Looking like the set of Walker Texas 

Ranger every time you step inside my fucking room 

Gun sitting in the corner loaded ready 

when the thief is stealing shit about my yard 

I don't even call the Cheatham County police, 

I just call the morgue to get you out my yard 

I got more connections than a box of 

Legos, got enough bread to buy a fucking Lambo 

But I'd rather buy mud trucks, 

smoke good weed and roll that shit by the fucking handfull 

Yeah, I'm tatted up, 26, from the stix, got a gift, so legit 

How I spit from the trip, 

bought a single wide trailer and I made that pimped (Oh yeah) 

Got the 'Vette on fleek with the top of the 

house, no shoes, no shirt, with the sunshine out 

But I won't get burned, 

still cold in south, shit, dawg, just bring that microphone out 

Yeah, I'm black on black, 

the intimidator, still making noise like damn cicadas 

This white boy got a little bit of 

flavor, still keep it country like grape tomatoes 

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Tailgates dropping on the south 

side, got that black smoke steady rolling 

Glovebox got that James Bond and I ain't scared to bust you open 

From the land of I don't trust you so don't take my shit too serious 

Unless you're trying to fuck with me, you'll end up a conspiracy 

That's destiny, that's will 

That's striving, that's being a trailblazer 

An explorer, going into space 

Mathematics, quantum mechanics, the secrets of the universe 

All I know is doing hard work, blood, 

sweat and tears stained up in my shirt 

Mama told me, 

"Keep dreaming till the dream come 

to life", yeah I grew it from the dirt 

Used to play, 

getting dirty in the mud, now I'm grown, still dirty with it son 

Rebel flag waving in the southern sun, 

this is who I am, you cannot take it from me 

I don't twitter beef, I'm out here getting even, 

hiding in your bushes while your ass is sleeping 

Jack the Ripper kind of vibe is what I'm creeping, 

leave you like a broken sink, you're steady leaking 

Big guns, clicked up looking like 

we're getting ready for the fucking purge 

Toolbox got enough ammunition to wipe 

out a city from the motherfucking curb 

Big game, big boots, big balls, big wallet, shocking people 

Like they stuck their head inside a light 

socket, Einstein-looking ass every time I drop it 

I will never lose my shine, 

skin is diamond plate, they want me to stop but I fucking can't 

Out there repping for my little country 

state, Cheatham county, baby, that is where I stay 

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Tailgate's dropping on the south 

side, got that black smoke steady rolling 

Glovebox got that James Bond and I ain't scared to bust you open 

From the land of I don't trust you so don't take my shit too serious 

Unless you're trying to fuck with me, you'll end up a conspiracy 

Don't you understand the magnitude, I'm right, I'm correct 

I've done the research, I know what I'm talking about 

I don't like being right, I wish I was wrong, but I'm correct 

They hate your success! 

They hate your strengths! 

They hate your passion!