can it be - yelawolf lyrics
[verse]
yeah
now yelawolf is only getting funky
ask mommy i’m a fool come and laugh for me
hit the fame wit’ more soul than a sad junkie
this ol’ cracker sh-t on rappers like bad plumming
it’s overgrown but they couldn’t hide my path from me
i’m in the truck you you shoulda’ seen the white trash coming
f-ck a b-tch, i’m trash honey walking with my hands pointed
at her throat like a mad mummy lap suckas’ around the track
mash money bank wads and paint jobs could get the cash from me
treat everybody like a wall to a crash dummy jesus i mean that’s
a call to the last coming a cheetah was never seen this fast running
like i do rap hunny can’t you hear the echo to the br-ss humming
i want it all i want the last something if there’s something to be got
i want to get the got and leave the rats nothing and if the god, got
got by the last monkey i’m a gorilla the vanilla bean, that’s hungry
hungry enough to eat a burrito full of mayo and gl-ss clumsy when i’m drunk off
off a gl-ss of br-ss monkey giving up is like giving my dad money
i’m better off giving up, cause i’ll never see back the cash from em
family values are a drag sunny, when you’re from alabama
even grandma’s lookin’ for that fast money
[hook]
h-llo
bootleg kev and yelawolf and we say
howdy
how you doing out there
h-llo
can it be that it was all so simple
i’m sorry
or does anyone even f-cking care
and im back like a f-ckin fetus between the knees of a cheetah
k!lled by the coathanger, my throat rangled i breath in this mic
reachin for credit but im really reachin for cleavage
from the b-tch of the rap game i want milk, i won’t believe it if you say i dont deserve im worth it, im worth adidas and gold chains and fedoras and all that come for the reason
to be a part of the leaders the preachers and money seekers
thatll turn my project come into a f-ckin platinum leaker, or gold at least come on i mean i’m not a golden retriever
but i receive the gold even if i win by a needle
the people winnin i see em i got em im on their heel, with the tank and a militia with a mission like steven siegel
deceivin the sheeps illegal i need the sheep to be smarter, im a martyr but im not a creep you should know when you see the eagle
the script and the seven seagrams the sip and the shine is lethal, but a drunk bird in flights like a baby drivin a regal
but maybe the babys fright and my flight is only a piece of the story cause im not boring im an entertainer to the people
in your brain like i thought, im the prince to the sheila cause sheila’s my momma, and this purple reign in my roof leaks to the bucket but f-ck it all i fix roofs and i fix heaters
so i never stay cold for long im too strong im a two seater in a used beamer with a corvette engine on an empty street wit a nitrous tank but the night is blank and i got no high beams to see
but a high beam to me, is a jim beam high hi bean how ya be
3-3-3
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