Last of a Dying Breed

Oh, yeah Eh, we're the last of a dying breed What happened to the soldiers that stood up for something Instead of all these punk thugs that's no good for nothing? All these sissy ass crybabies that wanna play the victim They just do it for attention, better pull up your damn britches boy I ain't saying that I'm perfect, but I refuse to be worthless So I choose to keep on working on myself as a better person And you're the type that'll talk big, a big shot with a soft chin Ol' fuck boy better calm down when ya talking with some grown men You're the type that's got loose lips You show ya gum but don't shoot the shit You act hard but don't do shit, fuck you and your crew bitch! You're the type that'll go to jail then call ya girl up raising hell Talking bout you need canteen, tell that dude to go fuck his self! Especially what he did to you, all that bullshit that he put you through Lying cheating, put his hands on you, fuck that dude, you too damn cute Don't waste your time on a fuckboy Don't spend a dime on a fuckboy Don't sit and cry for a fuckboy Never ride or die for a fuckboy This is for my soldiers I'm showin' love and all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed This is for my soldiers I'm showin' love for all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed Ah, we the last of a dying breed, dying breed Yeah, we the last of a dying breed I'm the type that don't speak a lot Don't ask for much, and don't need a lot These pussy boys they everywhere, god-damn, I done seen a lot They call the cops every chance they get They want the smoke but can't handle it You call the cops on me boy, better tell 'em to bring an ambulance 'Cause I'm the type that'll handle mine If you want some too, ya better stand in line I've been ready for that bloodshed, I'm a blood hound from the Florida pine I'ma tell you once you pussy boy, I don't fuck around, ya better know this Come to my house, without a doubt, I'ma empty out this whole clip Or if I'm buying groceries and you fuckboys try to approach me And I got my kids with me, you better act like you don't know me Just walk on by, slowly, might turn me back to the old me Where nobody could control me, I don't ever call the police I do not play that bull shit, if I say shit then I do shit Might fuck around and go stupid onto you fuckboys and lose it Don't waste your time on a fuckboy Don't spend a dime on a fuckboy Don't sit and cry for a fuckboy Never ride or die for a fuckboy This is for my soldiers I'm showing love and all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed This is for my soldiers I'm showing love and all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed Ah, we the last of a dying breed, dying breed Yeah, we the last of a dying breed Man you can't support shit, you 'bout as sorry as it gets You got a pocket full of dope, you need your fucking ass whipped You better feed them damn kids and quit taking all them pills Better find your ass a gig and try to catch up on them bills And if yo girl do the same shit, she lame as fuck too But you the man of the house, so I still blame you! Don't waste your time on a fuckboy Don't spend a dime on a fuckboy Don't sit and cry for a fuckboy Never ride or die for a fuckboy Don't waste your time on a fuckboy Don't spend a dime on a fuckboy Don't sit and cry for a fuckboy Never ride or die for a fuckboy Hahaha, yeah, man, we the last of a dying breed baby Come on, come on This is for my soldiers I'm showing love and all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed! This is for my soldiers I'm showing love and all them good ol' boys raised on shotguns In the backwoods by the rivers and the creeks Man we practice what we preach, we the last of a dying breed! Ah, we the last of a dying breed