We ain't in here, we outta here
We ain't in it, we above it
Yeah!
Just ran up in the mall with a quarter sack of heroin
Chocolate chip ecstasy
'Bout to sell a couple to a redhead, yeah
I'ma meet him in the back in the Burger King
Said he was an Eminem fan
So I gave him an autograph and said vicariously
And I never use that sparingly
American, please, take two on me
Get a pair of new chucks, put 'em in the back seat
Right next to the other fifty pair
I put '?m on now, ready, I'm fresh as fuck
I change cloth?s like I never had shit to wear
Like I never had a new whip to clean
Scrubbin' white walls, I can get tipped, yeah
Like I've never had a bucket seat to lean
Grippin' woodgrain 'til I catch a pistol, yeah
I'ma head over to the bar, reach in the toolbox
Throw a monkey wrench and catch a ratchet
Head up into the car, reach in the glove box
Pop the trunk and go jack a rabbit
In the mood to be rude, crude and trashy
What's new but a credit card usin' plastic
Gotta carry two dollar bills in the back of the
Chain wallet just to feel like I'm average, I'm
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby, hot
And I'm feelin' sketchy
Fuck it, I'ma let the lead doodle (brr)
You feelin' breathy
Chasin' me down like a bottle of Yoo-hoo
But I'm a star, I'm like a space student
Boy, check the clock up in the bird, I'm coocoo
You walkin' out the club like a wet noodle
Put your boy on a leash like a pet poodle
Bitch, firecracker
Nobody would light 'cause that fuse is too short
An evangelist for the dope man
I got the plug, what's he abusin' you for?
Hittin' for the low like a basement, new floors
So keep your head up like a compass due north
You comin' round the mud in the heavy Chevy
No Benz to him, no crown vic', the blue Ford
Still kickin' Dixies
Still spit this filthy dirt the southern view for
The gutter and the motherfuckerin' crooks to do court
Thanks to play I'm still kickin' new doors
Down, I'm still bustin' locks for you boys
Steal this shit like I stole manure
Smoke bellowin' out of a chimney stack
I'm burnin' up a track like a full pack of Newports
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby, hot
All motherfuckin' day
Cambo, give me that moonshine, boy
Fuckin' gettin' it, yeah!
And I really don't mind
Whether or not you consider me as a rapper
I wrote a book on how to flip on the pattern
They forget about the wolf, now they're flippin' it backwards
Ooh, what a rotten apple
Fuckin' worms, just bait and tackle
So as a matter of fact
You're better off leavin' me out of the rappers chapter
So while the old turntable wobble around
I'ma hit another shot, swallow it down
Take a purple bag off a bottle of Crown
And spare no change, follow me now
Every single record was a part of me now
They wanted to hold a piece and a part of me down
Motherfuckers are 'bout to get all of me now
ET phone home, callin' me now
Quite simply put, I'm infinitely good, just who I am
Meant to be this hood, trippin' out all day
Just two more grams, I'm up in these woods, yeah
And like an oak tree that's poking
Off of the riverbank, I be hangin' lowkey
Throwin' my cigarette in the fire like an old chief
Packin' a bowl in the corn pipe with gold teeth, I'm
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again, I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin' 'em up, baby, hot
Hitchy-witchy country ass shit
What you talkin' 'bout?
Catfish, motherfucker!
Michael Wayne Atha, known professionally as Yelawolf, is an American rapper, singer, and record producer born in Alabama in 1980. After spending his childhood in Gadsden, he moved to Atlanta to pursue music. In 2005, he signed with Eminem's Shady Records, becoming one of its most prominent artists. Yelawolf is known for his aggressive rap style and intricate rhymes, often focusing on autobiographical themes such as his difficult childhood and struggles with addiction. Some of his most representative tracks include "Hard White (Up in the Club)", "Till It's Gone" and "American You", while his debut album "Radioactive" from 2011 was a commercial success. Yelawolf has collaborated with artists such as Eminem, Snoop Dogg and Tech N9ne.
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