lirik lagu yelawolf - to whom it may concern
[intro]
so i had a phone call with a good friend of mine the other night
and, um
seems that i’ve created some confusion
he told me straight up
“people don’t know you like i do, man”
i guess i haven’t said enough
or maybe i’ve said too much, i don’t know
but i don’t wanna leave any stone unturned
or no questions about who i am
or what i represent
so here you go…
[verse]
i grew up in the deep gutter
raised by wolves, church steeples, and a single white mother
taught to be blind to any colour by hippies who been smoking weed since the ‘60s
with dukes of hazzard for bed covers
rock’n’roll, country music, and cocaine
one hand on the bible and the ouija board in the other
the irony of it all is so thick that a fly would get stuck in the thin air of that dope smoke
lynyrd skynyrd and michael jackson
practicing moonwalking with a broomstick in the kitchen, popping and locking
no bet on television, we didn’t have it, we had the rabbits
the tin foil, mason jar on the counter full of bacon oil
now looking back, talking ‘bout freedom, yeah you were spoiled
oblivious to the hideous crimes from the insidious minds
that took place right below us on the southern soil
the blood and the pain left a recoil
the creekwater’s holding secrets
ghosts of confederate veterans in the wind
backwoods are haunted with the death and the sin
slave ships carried the lost souls
wicked white men slaughtering angels for a fucking bar code
we buried these wicked ways, the world is still turning
and these motherfuckers with they crosses is still burning
yeah, i seen ‘em at the courthouse
not really sure what they’re trying to prove still
jumped up on mountains they’re still trying to move hills
and their daughters probably listen to dru hill
pussy hotter than blue steel for dru hill
so jesus come take the wheel
no, you steer drunk
the youth here’re punks
the truth here it come
i’ll show you how these country folks pop that trunk
uh, and my honesty is modest
to tell the whole truth yeah i’ve pondered and i’ve pondered
to be spit at and called a wigger from who you considered a father at 14
‘ll make you wonder, and you wonder
yeah, that’s hard to hear, ain’t it
but at that very moment my picture got painted
call it god, call it what you will
but i knew the south was sick still and in need of some changes
so i took it upon myself to adopt all the outcasts
i took the american and the confederate flag
threw it in my back pocket, i even went and got tatts
and carried them like a shield for the shit that once held me back
and these redneck brothers of mine, playin’ that 3.6
in a fucking cornfield, in big trucks with lift kits
oblivious to the beauty of juxtaposition
they had no idea how special it was to witness
them in deep alabama playing snoop and group home
big hank and metallica, i discovered a new zone
and catfish billy, a way for me to talk about it
from them on i was questioned and highly doubted by my peers
who didn’t understand that all these years we’d been the brunt of the jokes
america made it clear that we were backwards, wrong, behind, and segregated
so i decided that yelawolf would go make it more obvious that we’ve grown
i polished up my tone, i signed to shady and brought a record deal home
look mama, no hands, i’m coming up, yeah i’m grown
respect from the ogs, cosigning my songs
first it was bun b, then raekwon, and tip
then all of these mcs wanted features from me
but i was a live wire, my tongue was a fuckin’ blade to these critics
who didn’t get it, the clips from the grenade in my teeth
a little too unique, the market for me was smaller than some thought it would be
even me so i looked in the mirror
saw the jordans, the gold chain, my shirt—pantera
rebel flag in my pocket, red tattooed on my neck
heart of dixie across the stomach and it ain’t clicked yet?
maybe i wore the wrong shoes back to the woods because these suede no. 5s can’t get wet
maybe it’s something i need to go figure out on my own
so after radioactive i took my shit back home
disappeared from the world, became increasingly different
tuned in every once in a while to see who was spitting
but mainly i was in nashville getting back to my roots
explorin’ music with love story, i made it my truth
dropped a single called til it’s gone and travelled the globe
i started seeing rebel flags everywhere at my shows
i didn’t think nothing of it, i -ssumed that they get it
i’m on some new south shit, but i have to admit it
i saw the posts up on instagram proclaiming i’m racist
and that i’m fucked in the head and i don’t know where my place is
i started taking it personal ‘cause i treat people equal
homie, i got mixed kids and music is how i feed ‘em
lo and behold as i’m saying this i discover this evil
white boy went in a church and k!lled 9 innocent people
godd-mn, hold on, moment of silence
[verse 2]
nine innocent church going people get murdered
there’s not a word i can utter, there’s not a rhyme i can say
there ain’t no fixing that ever, those people brutally slain
and i refuse to see ways to justify all the blame
that motherfucker’s insane
i got so mad at my own image, i took down merch
no explaining it now, it’s only making it worse
this fucking coward, this criminal’s, just a puppet, a mental case
but the truth is the truth, he did it because of race
there’s nothing i can describe, the shame that i felt inside
a white boy with the flag committed this homicide
i tried so long to defend the south, and yes it was my decision
my interviews broke on the internet, you can see my vision
i never thought myself to be like a politician, just a witness to the sickness
the kindling was in the bridge and the bricks that i laid to the road
that i built from the love and the wisdom
i’m trying to find my way
but now i’m feeling imprisoned from the stereotypes
i was prepared for the fight
hell, i’ll be stereotyped until my burial site
i married a loaded gun when i married this mic
ain’t playing russian roulette, ain’t playing ‘round with my life
‘cause what i cannot lose is the respect that i’ve gained
friendships i cherish, fuck the money and fame
black american culture is in the thread of my veins
it’s rock’n’roll till i die, i’m just a rebel in shame
yes i apologize for me and anybody with that flag
honestly, any proud southerner is sad
how do you think i feel when i look at my grandad
imagining him dead because of that piece of trash
i got nephews, nieces, who need this, peace between this
but media is fiendish
so if you feel like you’re above it or beneath it
have a logical mind about who your team is
and when you look at me, dawg, don’t look at me like another branch off a tree
lord, i took this shit and balanced it the best that i could
try to hold up the wood of america’s old see-saw
but this ain’t hee haw with memaw
we ain’t on the cosby show, are we, bro
daddy may give a goodnight kiss, but i can promise you this
that you ain’t promised tomorrow
i wish i could go back to the innocence
i remember my friends with no differences
but pigment is relative, isn’t it
maybe by 2050 we’ll be over it
big krit, i love you homie, keep k!llin’ shit
you inspired this verse, i got your back and that’s limitless
it is what it is, we cannot fix all this ignorance
slumerican flags up, it’s over, i’m ending this
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