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YELAWOLF lyrics : "Whiskey In A Bottle"

Still on that $$# like
Handcuff's up in ya like

Hand-puppets make a mute holla
You should've jumped in that Impala homie
Refrigerators never seen ice baby

Not vanilla, not a breeze on the hill
Will make a flame grab a chinchilla
Quite like the words I built up to

$#&@ guppies, I see food and I hush puppies
So give me that king crap
And I'll break a shell

You seen that?
Well $#&@ 'em if he don't take it well
So crack the top off that hot, shaking ale

And say "free Young Struggle" who's not making bail
He got popped by the feds
$#&@ the cops! Take an L

$#&@ it take M-N-O-P, learn how to spell
I'll pull up to the gate
And we'll skate on these country !@$)gots

And until then, $#&@ 'em, they can have it
Slumerican means
Slum American breed

Gutter raised with worldwide dreams, yeah


Put your hands to the sky
I'm a bullet in the barrel with a hair pin trigger now
Yeah I'm a landslide

I'm a head case train wreck avalanche comin' down
Put your hands to the sky
I'm a ready made party

I'm whiskey in a bottle now
I'm whiskey in a bottle now

Still on that gas like
The bottom of my signature shoe, 'Bama red

I'm on that $$# like Alabama did LSU
Goose egg, oh lord
Bible Belt raised in your mouth like a cold sore

Rolled Ford's? Nah roll tide and roll Chevy's
My momma rolls joints
Smoke rolls off of the tip

Daddies a rolling stone
I'm rolling in %#@! with these pigs
In south side

Who you rolling with in the sticks?
With hair weawes and air streams
Cigarette stained walls

$#&@, I can barely breathe
Spittin' shotgun pellets
Out of my $#&@in' chili bowl

But am I a hill billy? No
I am the truth behind these $#&@in' illusionist
Yellin' redneck, you about as red as the color blue is

Call me a redneck, and I just tattoed it
Because of the abuse and I use it as therapy in music


Still on that grass like
John Deeres this yard is already cut
You can't get no work here, uh

You !@$)s thought it was swag you was stealing
It turns out I got no peers
Just years of street smarts

So here you go !@$!s
Come hit this bulls eye
Iâ??ll give you three darts

One, my last album flopped
Two, it wasn't my time
Three, my $#&@in' mama's selling my pajamas online

But guess what?
(I'm whiskey in a bottle now)
$#&@in' right, I'm aged
Iâ??m dirty 3, I'm not a child who plays with rap to get a piece

Don't clap, for no MC who's wack
Then get a free slap
$#&@ out my car and I'm smashed in a Caprice
I'm Jack sippin' still
Whippin' wood wheels

Truck on steriods
Illegal to play ball
But dammit how good it feels
Drop that black card
Park in the backyard

Baby fire up the grill
It's party time


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