[Verse 1: Yelawolf]
Look at them boots, huh? The fuck am I—Elvis?
You think I dropped two racks, on a pair of crocodile tails
Just to let 'em sit up on the shelf, bitch?
Yela' done lost his mind
Dropped 70 grand up on the Chevrolet
A bug got into my throat, I had to cough it up
The dealership hit me with the pepper spray
Money, money, money, 20, 30, 40, 50 and another hunnid
If I don't get rid of this ridiculous amount of dividends
I'll probably end up with a knot up in my stomach
If I don't feel well, then I don't get mail
If I don't get mail, then I can't steer well
If I can't steer well, I'ma run over these mothafuckas
Like a gorilla up in a titanium tank drinkin' on clear
Well, what do you expect?
I ain't never seen a hunnid thousand dollar check
Even Walmart had to restock
Fucking with me up in the electronic department
What do you mean, you can't sell all 6 flat screens?
What am I supposed to put in my garage?
A fucking projecta?
How do you expect me to take a piss, and not miss Sons of Anar-
Chy? What a dream, what a dream, what is this? What is that? What is up with the bling? What a scene
Buy the couch, buy the lamp, buy the room, buy the sink
Buy the whole damn thing, bada boom, bada bing
House lookin' like the Bass Pro Shop
Buffalo heads, bears, bucks and dead ducks
Fuck changing up
Kill it, stuff it, and hang it up
You don't like it? Then you lame as fuck
Come on in, want a beer?
Oh, yeah—Next to Nothing, motherfucker
Slumerican shit!
Look at them boots, huh? The fuck am I—Elvis?
You think I dropped two racks, on a pair of crocodile tails
Just to let 'em sit up on the shelf, bitch?
Yela' done lost his mind
Dropped 70 grand up on the Chevrolet
A bug got into my throat, I had to cough it up
The dealership hit me with the pepper spray
Money, money, money, 20, 30, 40, 50 and another hunnid
If I don't get rid of this ridiculous amount of dividends
I'll probably end up with a knot up in my stomach
If I don't feel well, then I don't get mail
If I don't get mail, then I can't steer well
If I can't steer well, I'ma run over these mothafuckas
Like a gorilla up in a titanium tank drinkin' on clear
Well, what do you expect?
I ain't never seen a hunnid thousand dollar check
Even Walmart had to restock
Fucking with me up in the electronic department
What do you mean, you can't sell all 6 flat screens?
What am I supposed to put in my garage?
A fucking projecta?
How do you expect me to take a piss, and not miss Sons of Anar-
Chy? What a dream, what a dream, what is this? What is that? What is up with the bling? What a scene
Buy the couch, buy the lamp, buy the room, buy the sink
Buy the whole damn thing, bada boom, bada bing
House lookin' like the Bass Pro Shop
Buffalo heads, bears, bucks and dead ducks
Fuck changing up
Kill it, stuff it, and hang it up
You don't like it? Then you lame as fuck
Come on in, want a beer?
Oh, yeah—Next to Nothing, motherfucker
Slumerican shit!
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