Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out

Drunk as a fool

throwing that Jim Beam back until I'm laid out

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out

Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now

Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up

they telling me "turn it way down"

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out

Yeah, intergalactic, out of my mind and into traffic

In a pair of Converse

tryna climb Mount Everest with nothin' in my backpack

It's me: A son of a bitch, a child of a prick

A stepson you don't wanna hit

OO wee, no, not him, not Lil Wayne, Michael Wayne

Who you thought it would be?

Damn right, and I'm on a tightrope

Screaming out loud, "Bitch, fuck my life! "

I ain't never give a fuck, I could never give a fuck now

So put the chain on my bike, yeah

Throw that bitch back on the sprocket

give me the pistol before you cock it

Let me throw a bullet in the clip for luck, for us

Poor us, yeah, popping these, shocking, ain't it mane?

Well, I guess nobody wants to be broke

right? Black or white

Paint the frame

'Cause I'm only used to refusing the stereotypes of a name

I ain't a name; I'm a soul, I'm a piece of gold

I'm a pro, I'm a piece of shit too, too

What I gotta do if I gotta roll? Guess what?

I'ma roll all over you when I'm riding

Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out

Drunk as a fool

throwing that Jim Beam back until I'm laid out

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out

Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now

Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up

they telling me "turn it way down"

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out

Used to watch my beeper chirp

blue dickies and a black Raiders Shirt

My world was a little-bitty spot

in the universe outside of Earth

Tennessee bound, Alabama born, I came down in a meteor storm

Media wrong, media write, right 'em a wrong, ring the alarm

Duck under your desk, children go

this building is about to blow

I don't know what I'ma do with this

feeling inside of my mind and soul

I'm a one-in-a-million human show

Should've been the motherfucking Truman Show

But if you seen me getting raped as a child

You probably wouldn't give me room to grow

Heavy blow, take a heavy sigh

Like a runner on the daily, he's high, oh my

We'll be good, baby boy, don't cry

I can make a boat with a book of rhymes

God made me the Cherokee like Noah

I can't let the world off the hook this time

And if you didn't want this Catfish shit

Then bitch, you should've never shook that line

Readied that hook, took this time

to press play, then rewind

I would rather be drunk than be blind

To the space-age pimp shit that I combine

With what I know, rock-and-roll

I'm so famous, Country Fresh

That I can't take one step in the

fuckin' street when I'm in public

So I get in them

Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out

Drunk as a fool

throwing that Jim Beam back until I'm laid out

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out

Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now

Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up

they telling me "turn it way down"

Homie, I'm on my Catfish Billy shit, I'm talking way out

Dude, I'm way out, I'm talking way out