Tristar Baker Ya Maker

[Verse]
It's that southern mutha fucka
Gettin buck off like no other
Where's ya pride young bustas
Mane this funk ain't for the suckas
In the ville with the trio smoking blunts and bumpin evil
Why you lookin at me bitch is it my tattoos or my ego
No style with the flow all I see is lost hope
Bustas take what I make but they don't ever bring the soul
Tennessee is the home of these playas thatcha hate
Now If you bitches got some shit to say then say it to our face
I ain't no big headed fucka just the competitions lacking
All this power that I feel comes from my brothas chain reaction
With the passion with this rage
Hydra baker tenngage
Quick to click and trend kill
Now Let this southern blood reign
Disrespectful since my youth
I didn't have no guidance through
My fucking life was just a puke but now with time I have a truce
See the blood that's in the soil
From my past what's made me loyal
Since a kid I've hated morals
Fuck you bitch won't take your orders
This that get buck could give a fuck
Bitch I don't care what you say
I'm swanging bows at my own shows you've never seen it done this way
Pride for where I reside
This funk it dwells deep in my mind
Don't let the bump be filled with lies
I show my core when I spit rhymes
To the fullest it's the truest
Aggressive and hateful music
You Can hear it loud and fluent
Yes it's clear the trio rules it
No foe shall oppose
As I snuff this game of life
This is no phase I can't be saved
So mutha fuck what you think is right