In The Cradle Yelawolf

I guess my daddy used to be barber
He took lines to the head and cut so many daughters
And left a trail of little midgets running loose
In the Dixie land of 'Bama where the baby had no roots
A single wide in the woods and a Harley
No bill money, no food, no Atari
What a fucking life, good job dad, sorry

Baby's in the cradle, plastic spoon
Little boy's blue, black clouds on the moon

My mother must have been a cute girl
A rebel at school, living in her own world
She left behind a legacy that only speaks bad with
Rocks in purses, whooping girls' asses
Left home young, left wrong impressions
Made bill money in bars and weed runs
Took ahold of drugs, what a life, good job mom

Baby's in the cradle, plastic spoon
Little boy's blue, black clouds on the moon

Yep, together they were like the perfect pair
Daddy had the matchstick, mama had the flair
Flames got lit, shit got burnt
The roof caved in, the table got turned
I was wounded by the scene, but pass that salt
Make it hurt worse, give me more alcohol
Look at me now, good job y'all