Alabama slums

Red clay running through my veins, grab the horses by the rains, double barrels going bang bang , imma the captain of the cappa of south Alabama go jags , black and white rags rolling 8 in lifts on gold mags, LeDS and a alligator dash, wanna bump we thump real fast like my homie everlast, put you on ya ass from from the blast head snap whiplash , catch the clash rub ya face in bom fire ash, Yeah we trash ,we slumming in the gutters no rudders 4 bolt mains and big knobby rubber we slumming , and thumbing through white tails yall rocking desiner im bathing with water pales and kicking yard sales im Alabama poor glazed with salt spray, bayou blood , with street game, my walk to fame was through prison gates ziplocked letters, and old pains from old flames , New gains from new game, its trials and tribulations on my old ass, white trash flow tight as a fine ass, red clay running through my veins bayou blood , with street game my walk to fame was walking out the prison gates , im the rhyme from the waste that time creates, im the blend of seasoned end , with a dash of look what the cat dragged in wet from being drowned in the hell ive been living in the curve in the bend Alabama poor working for more, I got faith in the red clay running through my veins