Оригинален текст
United States of America, nigga
Land of the free
Nigga what you'd do for your country?
You know what I'd do for mine?
Everything but go to war, nigga
Yeah, I'm into it with niggas right around the corner from me
I ain't gotta go out the motherfucking country to shoot them choppers nigga
[Chorus]
Colombians, Mexicans
Even got some work from the Dominicans
American, land of the free
National anthem shit
My country tis of thee
Red, white, and blue
Red, white, and blue
Crip and Blood shit
Nigga I salute
Red, white, and blue
Red, white, and blue
Cocaine shit
Nigga I salute
Colombians and Mexicans, I'm tryna re-up
Stop the beat let's get something understood -- I stay g'd up
Maybach with my feet up, AK when I creep up
My young niggas rep Blood Gang, my OGs rep Hoover
All I got is shooters, all we do is shoot up
Little bad bitch got no aim, she must work at Hooters
Remember being in New York when the towers blew up
Now I got a 911 Porsche with the blue guts
Rims'll make you throw up, something to make you blow up
Niggas getting little money, when you gon grow up?
Louis from the toe up, street nigga, so what?
Louis XIII and I just tell them bitches poor up
Work
[Chorus]
Voila, haha, 18 wheeler fulla
Pounds of ? green and thirty bricks inside a Honda
He don't speak any English, all he know is numbers
That's my mans he plug me he gon get me through the summer
He don't know my name, him there just a runner
He pick it up and drop it off then he gets him yonder
Land of the free, run up if you wanna
Suicide mission, we got choppers in this Hummer
Red, white, and blue, I'm no politician
But I live in a white house so I feel presidential
I pledge allegiance to the flag, United Streets of America
In God we trust, in one we stand, I'll always be a hustler
Work
[Chorus]
The block Frank Sinatra thirty thousand feet up in the air eating lobster
Doing what I gotsta
Catch me at the tables, hundred thousand a marker
?
Fucking with the wrong set, ain't even perform yet
Short one to AC, Vegas we took the long jet
Blue chip in the field, red one on the horn bet
Money straight, work good, the neck ain't did me wrong yet
They come in powder form 'til we rock 'em up
Land of the free, but they tryna lock me up
Ha, I'm in the trap 'til the sky change
Drug dealer nightmares, millionaire migraines
Work
[Chorus]
