Upchurch – My Yard Lyrics | Official Audio

Lyrics My Yard – Upchurch

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
They wonder right now what my plans are
Can’t catch me, I got thirty cars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
Cost an arm and a leg to get a leg up
Can’t burn me, I got dirty bars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

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Sittin’ in my driveway that still ain’t paved
With a million dollars worth of cars from the songs I made
Starin’ straight into the sun in a sun-baked daze
My face burnin’ and peelin’ just because I spit flames
And lately I’ve been in nothin’ but an abundance of rage
A roid-ragin’ animal ’bout to break out of a small cage
And I’m feelin’ anger levels that I’ve never experienced
And lyrics have been nothin’ but bombs in the atmospheric spirit
One motherf**kin’ click like I don’t wanna hear it
While the angry me inside is yellin’, jumpin’, and cheerin’
I wanna drive chop-tops and not them old school cars
I mean spontaneously combust into a super sportin’ nova star

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
They wonder right now what my plans are
Can’t catch me, I got thirty cars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
Cost an arm and a leg to get a leg up
Can’t burn me, I got dirty bars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

Puffin’ weed by the pool makes me feel good
With Elvis on the vinyl, sippin’ whiskey in the still woods
Gettin’ stoned makes me think right
Slows it down so the blur of bein’ famous still meets the eye
Night ridin’ takes me back
To nights where the world didn’t know me, that’s facts
That’s why I take the Shelby Cobra on these small town backs
Road to the riches on a Tennessee map
Like who you know from the countryside
Hittin’ high speeds in a junk ride
With a huge name and a small circle
Without Ford emblems bein’ on the side

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They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
They wonder right now what my plans are
Can’t catch me, I got thirty cars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
Cost an arm and a leg to get a leg up
Can’t burn me, I got dirty bars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

I want all the smoke, why, ’cause I never choke
I got a gas mask and cope with bein’ blind to where I want
The first time I kinda know you shoulda seen my first show
Looked like a hip hop club was about to host a rodeo
Then I delivered the horses and now my motor is broken
And now I’m dumpin’ more gas in my engine knowin’ that it will blow up
Pedal to the metal like a Twisted Metal fella
In the ice cream truck with the clown character blazin’ all the missiles
My attitude is purge, my Lambo is green
I used to be nice, now I wanna be mean
My heart turned to stone, my mind is a weapon
F**kin’ with a crazy person you gonna feel the repercussions
And that’s Church

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
They wonder right now what my plans are
Can’t catch me, I got thirty cars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard

They hopin’ I ain’t really gon’ say nothin’
Cost an arm and a leg to get a leg up
Can’t burn me, I got dirty bars
Armed house like the press that uses my yard…

➤ Written by Upchurch
Album: Mud to Gold
Produced by Thomas Toner
Upchurch | 2021

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