Said Fuck It Lyrics – Upchurch

Aww they gonna be mad about this one boys

Oh well, it’ll be alright

Fuck award shows, fuck the radio

And the new up and comer and his female clothes

With his glitter on his face and his prewritten songs

He ain’t from ’round here and neither is his boss

Fuck the guy in the office with his Jerry Curl

And his hands super soft like a teenage girl

Fuck social media and them long hashtags

With your bitch made album cover lookin’ like a-

Yeah, I said the word fuck on the charts

Prolly breaking beta male achy breaky hearts

With the mocha lattes and sparkly blue scarfs

Sittin’ in the room tryna fucking talk like us

We don’t need

Another pretty boy singin’ pretty songs

What up Luke, you doin’ alright bro?

You want a beer?

No, okay well suit yourself

You act like you broke your heart or something

If country music was a rooster

You prolly wouldn’t know it don’t lay eggs

If country music was a set of game cock gaffs

You’d prolly get stabbed in the hand

If country music was baby chickens in the thicket

Would you have corn dust covered on your britches?

I am to country like rooster feed to a bucket

Just clucking telling y’all fuck it

Yeah, fuck it

So by now you probably figured it out

Mainstream pissed me off and made me have a dirty mouth

But on the flip side, here’s a little known fact

I was born in Music City, still get no slack

I got country songs tippin’ 100 million

Get played in every mud park across Dixie

Not to mention female singers want to come and frisk me

Especially when I’m stoned in my F-150

Ryan

Kane, what are ya doin’?

Tryna start a fire, it’s gettin’ chilly

Gettin’ chilly? It’s gettin’ dark, are you lost or something?

Yeah, I’ve been out here for hours

Where’d you come from?

I came from up yonder

No, no, no, you need to go that way

You need to get out of here dude

If they find out a country singer was lost in the woods, CMT gonna eat this up fuggin’

If country music was a rooster

You prolly wouldn’t know it don’t lay eggs

If country music was a set of game cock gaffs

You’d prolly get stabbed in the hand

If country music was baby chickens in the thicket

Would you have corn dust covered on your britches?

I am to country like rooster feed to a bucket

Just clucking telling y’all fuck it

This part of the song is called the bridge

And I’m about to burn it down

And make it aware to these sissy ass big wigs

To stop fucking up my hometown

And I don’t want to hear that we ain’t good enough

Or the radio ain’t got room

Bitch, I get the same spins on my Spotify list

As your newest and hottest do

‘Cause If country music was a rooster

I’d prolly be a big Cuban dong

If country music was a six cock derby in Kentucky

I’d be the last one standing tall

If country music was a walk string

I’d break loose and strut the yard

‘Cause we are to country like rooster feed to a bucket

And we like songs that say fuck it (Haha)

Yeah, fuck it, woo

Upchurch – Said Fuck It Song Details