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' f*ck 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 s**t

You act hard but don't do shit, f*ck 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 f*ck his self!

Especially what he did to you, all that bullshit that he put you through

Lying cheating, put his hands on you, f*ck 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 p***y 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 p***y boy, I don't f*ck 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 s**t, if I say s**t then I do s**t

Might f*ck around and go stupid onto you f*ckboys 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 f*****g 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 f*ck 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