Head Shot Every Time I Rhyme

it's Biscuit Vision motha fuckas!!,..I'm a pink toe,Pilgrim,cracker with an attitude,from the Backwoods ta the mother fukin center of the broken glass City.4 1 9, going ta get mine every mother fukin penny roll with me we gonna get plenty roll against me it's gonna get shity I'm on a mission ta get rich,watch me grind hard watch me take this position guarantee I get it,livin my life like an old dirt road smokin Sour Diesel keepin the shine ice cold,baggin me a model i'm jumping in her,bro ham they call me barbecue cause I'm all up in your wife's ribs,she say I'm Finger Lickin Good, C W B,crazy white Boy,ghetto hillbilly you don't wanna fuck with me,getting it how I'm livin it,representin Biscuit vision throwin dubs up,I'm that money flippin acrobatic block star,from the sticks ta the bricks I'll pull your fuckin card an bet it on the table i take you out,eenie,meenie,Minie, mow catch you by your toe,if you holler hell naah I Won't Let You Go,I'm that ghetto hillbilly sippin liquor out the Mason jar,watch the mailman he delivers,y'all ain't fucken with no ordinary white boy,from the sticks ta the bricks smokin that sticky, keepin the shine ice cold,Paul Anthony's my name, Poet my Alias,Swagger phenomenal,scarred up tattooed with war wounds,been around the block a time or two,hillbilly boss countin money on my tractor,got the John Deere bumpin biscuit Vision all day long it's my Factor,shit,I ain't hard ta find I be doin what I do,grindin hard ta take the position,I bail hay,cut trees,hit the block an get paid,Countin money on my John Deere tractor with my fitted john deere straw hat an Brahma Bull boots stompin, " HEY! " i got the.game so tight like some Fresh bailed hay smokin Sour Diesel,sippin out the mason jar keepin it ice cold,king ta the country,Boss ta The Stix,goon ta the bricks,I keep um bouncin in trailer parks,representin hard-hitting hard workin Outlaws,I stay true ta the beliefs of my grandpa,this is for the good ol boys out on their porches with their guns,flyin their Flags high with pride,i'm that white boy, a wordsmith sniper,lyrical Southpaw switchin the game up,Shot the Sheriff an deputy too,lyrical head shot every time i rhyme, my rhymes got more horses than a stagecoach,talkin loud will get you lyrically laid ta rest in that muddy Maumee river,the Dirty South got my ass meltin,I'm a block hustler on a mission ta get rich,buzzed on the sticky,gone off the shine,hit the farm in the morn an the bricks at night,watch me grind hard an take the position,from shrooms ta the sticky green,ta grandad's apple pie shine,I got what you need ta get your mind right,trippin on shrooms, smokin on the sticky,sippin .on.Granddad's apple pie .out the mason,floatin on the pond, speakin of the water,did I tell you that I got um,click,Klack"POW" got um wearin concrete boots, glued ta where they stand, " POW! " now they fishin on the bottom, Biscuit Vision got um,click.,ClacK.Poet lyrically got um, head shot every time I rhyme Ratatat tat POW!