Yeah

DJ Klever

Yelawolf

MWA

Brian Jones on the beat biatch

Alright DJ come take the wheel

And I'll set this fucker off

Pull Catfish up by the gills

That's how I would do your jaw

You don't want no problem here

Not the line you want to cross

Take the rapper over here

And I'll feed him to the dogs

Just because, just be cau-tious

Look at you like, "Nah cuz... "

Mad cause we got bitches licking lips and throwing bras up

Got no time to talk, cuz

When I snap, it's all good

If I cut you down then best believe I'm throwing sawdust

Aw shucks

Aw fuck, I'm just playing, shut up

Fair warning not too subtle

I lay dormant but ooh brother

Got holy water like two puddles

And landslide the vampires are vandalized

With cans of Krylon damage and design

Sanitize the enterprise

The plan is amplified

Fans are effin’ tired

By the need, provided me

Allowing me to open the

Show is over, no promoter

Locally and overseas

Would tell you different, I'm a timebomb

Tick, tick, tick, tick, I'm an icon

Slumerican tossed the barbarian off the bar area

Plus the dyed hair blonde

Bitch over there, got her hips in the air

And her tits I'm aware

I'ma dip in a pair, I'ma lick on the set

That I'ma smash it, attack it

in the back till she's pissing the bed

Fist full of hair at your crib and a lawn chair

you got a visitor there

Face shot to the clear, she dropped on the legs

yeah, and I let her kiss on the head

Hold my beer, don't hold my breath

Hold my weight, showing flex

I'm so hard, diamonds envy 'round me

Look, I'm so cool, I got my own climate

Mountainous terrain to climb, no

You fuckin' with the hustle, need a rope

You want the vintage turquoise, Navajo

I stained that shit from stage at every show

Brad Spit, Matthew Mcconaublaze

Hollywood meets Elvis Messy

Pull up in a beat-up Honda that I stole

to drunk drive cause I like Chevy's

Oh, here I go, no red carpet and no rope

Put me down there with my folk

and let the Slum come strike a pose

I write my flows like a fighter

These are punches being thrown

To your nose, duck and jab

Leaving blood patterns on your clothes

I might be white ‘Hammed Ali

As-salamu alaykum, here for the feast

But I couldn't be a Muslim, that could never be

Cause I'm still pissin' in a barrel full of beez

Like a chair for a bear, I'ma need a bigger seat

To sit cross-legged, I swear I'm a Chief

Here y'all hoes staring at me

Better mourn the cow, bury the beef

I clip your wings like there's no air beneath a parakeet

Give you some rings around your eyes like I said marry me

Get to the bottom of it like Titanic, very deep

Make you a model puppet, like Jim Henson every week

Sesame Street, yes sir Big Bird

Leave 'em black and yellow like I live in Pittsburgh

Shit turds, with quick words

throw bricks of wit, this pick is yours

All my fans, they pump the fist, get lit, and flip the bird

All my jams, they bump and kick and I just stick the words

Like a tube of super glue does for model aeroplanes

If the music chooses you, add the wheels and glue the wings

Then the paint, then the strings

then from the ceiling it will hang

Collect them all, don't let 'em fall

Until the critics come and frame

You work in pictures then you switch up

and you work on model trains

Just to keep 'em in suspicion like a pro

that's why I changed

So to all the people who supported me throughout the game

Over the years, I hope you like watching me grow

Yeah, Michael Wayne, Michael Wayne

Yeah, Ghetto Cowboy

5427 Hickory Park Drive off Bell Road

Antioch Tennessee

Via southside Alabama

G. A. D motherfucker

Trunk Muzik II