MY KRACKER'Z IN THE PEN - COUNTRY LUNATIC... NEEDED TO BE OUT #whiteboy

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SO I KNOW I SAID I WAS GOING TO SLOW DOWN BUT SOME MUSIC JUST NEEDS TO BE HEARD I GOT A FEW STRAIGHT WHITE BOY PRIDE FUCKING BANGERS I NEED TO PUT OUT TOO BUT DON'T Y'ALL THINK I'M PUTTING THEM OUT TOO FAST LET ME KNOW ANYWAYS.

COUNTRY LUNATIC
F.O.W.B INDEPENDENT RECORDS
LUNATIC NATION

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#whiteboy #fairytales #lunaticnation #lunaticnation4life



LYRICS 🤜🏼🤛🏼👇🏼

Ain’t no such thing as forgotten —
Just names written in ink on my conscience.
They behind them walls, but they still in my blood,
Crackers doin' time for the fam, not the love.

To my white boys in the box, y’all stood on ten toes,
Didn’t snitch, didn’t fold, y’all real — Lord knows.
Took the weight, ate them years like steak,
Did your dirt like a man, no fuckin’ handshake.

Held tight through the trial, through the crooked-ass judge,
Didn’t beg, didn’t cry, didn’t flinch, didn’t budge.
Now you sittin’ in them cinderblock castles of hate,
Still loyal to the crew, even sealed by the gate.

Wish I had enough bread to drop on your books,
Buy you smokes, soups, radios, new looks.
Fuck commissary, I call it survival tax —
Just a fee for standin’ tall and not turnin’ your back.

For my brothers doin’ time, this a shout to the pen,
From the trailer parks to cells, we still all kin.
Y’all the backbone, heart of the fight,
White pride behind bars, still burnin’ bright.

I see y’all standin' tall in them state-given boots,
Never broke, never bowed, y’all the realest recruits.
To my sisters in the box, queens with no crown,
White girls holdin' strong, still ten toes down.

I remember them phone calls with that steel echo,
Grit in your voice, sayin’ "I ain’t never lettin’ go."
Ain’t nothin' more gangster than survivin' that hell,
No freedom, no love — just a cold fuckin’ cell.

But I got you, even if I’m broke as hell,
Even if I can’t send nothin’ but a prayer in the mail.
Y’all in the yard doin' dips, stayin’ sharp,
Reppin’ White Trash Nation with a goddamn heart.

To the cracker who ain’t bent, who ain’t ran his lips,
Took his time like a man with them bloodied fists.
To the girl who ain’t fold, holdin’ fast to the code,
Got ink on her neck and a soul full of gold.

Y’all think we forgot?
Think again.
Some of us out here breathin’ just to carry the weight y’all hold.
The system broke y’all chains — but it never broke your soul.

For my brothers doin’ time, this a shout to the pen,
From the trailer parks to cells, we still all kin.
Y’all the backbone, heart of the fight,
White pride behind bars, still burnin’ bright.

I see y’all standin' tall in them state-given boots,
Never broke, never bowed, y’all the realest recruits.
To my sisters in the box, queens with no crown,
White girls holdin' strong, still ten toes down.

Y’all got more honor than the ones out free,
Sellin’ out for clout, beggin’ likes on IG.
While you servin’ them calendars, year by year,
We keep your names alive out here.

I tattooed initials on my knuckles for you,
Every show, every verse, I speak what’s true.
You the realest part of this outlaw nation,
Each of y’all legends in my dedication.

This ain't sympathy — it's loyalty, pride,
For the ones that took the fall so the fam could ride.
Y’all martyrs in a war this world don’t see,
But I see you, I *feel* you — you still ride with me.

To my white brothers locked down in the pen,
We salute y’all heavy, y’all warriors within.
To my white girls doin’ time, don’t you cry,
You queens of the struggle, you destined to fly.

We pray for parole, for appeals, for a chance,
But until then, we stomp in your stance.
So light up a square, pour out that shine,
We livin' for y’all until it’s your time.

You ain't forgotten.
You never will be.
Country Lunatic ride for the fallen, the locked, the silent —
The crackers behind bars, and the white girls in orange —
Y’all still fam.
Still kings.
Still queens.
Still F.O.W.B.
Still Lunatic Nation.
Till the walls fall down.