Back from the Dead Kid Rock

[Verse 1]
Back from the dead second L.P. here we go
Coming at you from the R.O.M.E.O
Pistol packed with a crew'o fly slimmys
Hat turned back and some Airwalk Jimmys
Never slacking hoes I be macking
Not wack I don't try to act black when
I came up I came at you from the outskirts
Bag of weed in the pocket of my sweatshirt
Bone to the bone to the bad to the bad to the bone
Hit bound from the Mo-town allen
Fuck a 40 I drink it by the gallon

[Verse 2]
I started out in Mount Clemens as a D.J
Park parties gettin drunk on Sunday
Tweeked in the heat to a beat I'd rock to the (More Bounce) and rip shit up
An now I've toured this nation
Pimp of the nation
Pulling hoes
Rock the set in each city then step
Me, Blackman and Funk Daddy Def Stef

[Verse 3]
Bitches, they think I'm sexist
But all I want baby is your grits for breakfast
Eggs, bacon, home cooked fries
And gimme a plate of that pussy on the side
Triple x on the set showin no class
Just a foul mouthed little fucking smart ass
No fool I went 2 high school dumb ass
Smoked dope and i flunked every class
Slash and I smash because I thrash when I bash
Invite me to a party and your house'll get trashed
An outcast sick of being harassed so I dashed
Moved out of the crib because I hated cutting grass
Now I reside on the eastside lovin it
Cold 40 dog in a brown bag chuggin it
Flex, sex, run of the next
Flipping and tripping and ripping and shaking the suckers who wanted to
Front an get around to the
To get up or get down to the rhyme
I'm shaking and taking and breaking I rip the mic like
Every time fuck I don't eat no Manwich
Kick back cooling with a cold grits sandwich
Somebody said I'm the best in the Mo-town
But this town isn't shit but a ghost town
Who ever said it they lied they fessed
Bitch I'm the best in the mother fucking Midwest