True to Yourself Yelawolf (Ft. Bones Owens)

[Verse 1: Yelawolf]
Here we go to church on Sunday mornin'
Hangovers on 'em
Whiskey pourin' out of skin, it's like a poison
Beer-soaked boots from the barroom floor
It's perfume to a sinner, it's allurin'
Prophet for the slums, prayer for the dark
Barber straight razor blade, pocket watch
Rings on every finger, sacrificial skin
Story written in his blood, he's akin
To animals and criminals alike
Hood, project, trailer park, Backwoods
Sprinkles of the cocaine in his nails
Tank full of propane on the shelf
Fire's in the soul, the child is now a man
The enemies of good now become a friend
Watchin' God play his life violin
Happily, an instrumental in the wind
You will never fit, you're a misfit
You're a quiet voice no matter how loud you get
Despite the effort, you remain reckless
You remain helpless in the same outfit
As your father did before, you're a song
Better sing the praises of the written wrongs
Only time will kill your spirit if you let it fall
And that's why there's...