Yelawolf, DJ paul, Rittz

The rapping homies

SLUMERICAN!

Yeah, this one is for the bowties

DJ Paul, Yela

I'm in a black chevrolet with no tags

Got doors on this bitch like a school bus

Hop on in motherfucker

Take you for a ride with a loaded ruger

So cold that I might need a coat rack

Look bitch you only need two puffs

That's crystal meth Catfish Billy smokin' tulips

All around the south I blow cash

That ain't leather that's nubuck

You ain't really ballin' ruthless

You ain't rollin' up on a new truck

I'm all about the Glock, fuck LoJack

I got this bitch on four's like two plus

Two and this bitch is lubed up

Treat MC's like a used slut

Yeah bitch I'm outtie

Five go tell yo' pap' that his boy's said howdy

You want to make it rain but would I, I doubt it

These hoes are bad weather, always cloudy

I'm a kill these bitches dig these ditches and

Box the body that’s Chevy talk for you dead and lost

Cause we peelin' off in that red Bugatti with bowties

(Oh, oh!) just me and that chevrolet (Bowties)

(Oh, oh!) with a motherfuckin' attitude (Bowties)

(Oh, oh!) you don't want to see that pistol wave (Bowties)

(Oh!) Me and that box running up clean and smooth (Bowties)

Turn the fuck up!

Rittz where you at?

Yelawolf, DJ Paul

Where the Chevy riders at?

Bring up, lets go!

All black Chevy I'm a take it to the car show

Shouldn't drink and drive

I got some chrown inside my console

Blonde ho with me, 'bout to fuck, no time for convo'

Horny because I let her hit the chronic and the blanco

Long stroke, I'm known for swinging wood like I'm a golf pro

Hit it from the back she look behind and saw my charm glow

I took a picture of her pussy for a fact and finished

So she got the steppin' like she learned to do the mambo

Back inside my seat my speakers beatin' like a bongo

Bumpin' Box Chevy me and 'Wolf a perfect combo

Anyone want it with us can get it they beggin' for attention

Like Miley Cyrus when she twerk

and let her tongue show, dumb though

Why you blaming us when you done gone broke

Rap's killing shit like Matt Dillon did in Gunsmoke

I'm just fired up while you gettin' dried up like an ancho

Chili but really still feelin' like I'm on my grind though

So I'm creepin' like a rhino, coming off the exit ramp

Northside Atlanta and I got it, want to get a gram

Servin' out my window like a worker on a Checker stand

Used to be a fan now they fucked it up and let me in

Leather interior until they get another print

Of my shoes, hit the runway inside my Chevy then

Hit the gas till the moon we will never land

Ain't nobody fuckin' with Slumerican put that on my Chevy

Yeah ho

Dj Paul, Yelawolf

Motherfucker

Turn it motherfucking up

Bitch!

Walk to the mall like fuck you

Give me that Mickey D Super Sized

Got a fresh pair of J's like two new crack heads

Shoelaces like Footloose, bounce on it

Coffee table full of shake

and they breakin' up an ounce on it

Tweakers and the clique gettin' high as a brimstone

Thrown from the tip of the volcano, they sip on

Lean some of them lean on the wall and limp home

Steam mellowin' out of a Chevrolet Enzo

I put the house on it

Have a seat bitch put the couch on it

Take a sigh bitch I put the south on it

Take a ride in the 1989

You talkin' shit I might put the crowd on it

It would be another Yelawolf hate ground

Butter on the seats like country crop

But I fuckin' ain't no country crop

Puts fear in the heart of a country cop

Everytime that I get fuckin' stopped

Boy them some nice wheels but you better turn the music down

Cause it ain't the big city

Ran off the law with nothin' but a ticket

From a fuckin' hick with a stick

and midget dealin' with midget and bowtie