Way Out Yelawolf

[Chorus]
Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out
Drunk as a fool, throwing that Jim Beam back until I’m laid out
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy shit, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out
Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now
Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up they telling me “turn it way down”
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy shit, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out

[Verse 1]
Yeah, intergalactic, out of my mind and into traffic
In a pair of Converse, tryna' climb Mount Everest with nothin' in my backpack
It’s me: A son of a bitch, a child of a prick
A stepson you don’t wanna hit
Ooo wee, no, not him, not Lil Wayne, Michael Wayne
Who you thought it would be?
Damn right, and I’m on a tightrope
Screaming out loud, "Bitch, fuck my life!"
I ain’t never give a fuck, I could never give a fuck now
So put the chain on my bike, yeah
Throw that bitch back on the sprocket, give me the pistol before you cock it
Let me throw a bullet in the clip for luck, for us
Poor us, yeah popping these, shocking, ain’t it mane?
Well, I guess nobody wants to be broke, right? Black or white
Paint the frame
‘Cause I’m only used to refusing the stereotypes of a name
I ain’t a name; I’m a soul, I’m a piece of gold
I’m a pro, I’m a piece of shit too
Do what I gotta do if I gotta roll, Guess what?
I’mma roll all over you, when I’m riding