Renegades - Yelawolf

«I got a gun for a mouth

And a bullet with your name on it

So don’t breathe when I talk

'Cause you haven’t been spoken to

But a trigger for a heart beating blood from an empty pocket»

I got blue wheels on a Harley blades

And a trail in the sunrays

Me and this lady, man

It’s like church on a Sunday

I’m up from my rocker

But rock and roll is my papa

Raised me up on this gasoline

Billy Jean was my mama

Broken hearts turned to spoken art

My blood is like lava

Hard as a rock when I’m cold

Yet I can flow just like water

Grew up with people that’s lethal

Grew up with hustling daughters

Mothers and fathers alike

Like it or not when you saw us

Live my life like a rebel

The devil’s hot on my tracks

But I won’t run from my demons

No, I embrace them in fact

So remember my spirit

When that Slumerican flag waves

From entrepreneurs to losers

Users and runaways

«But a trigger for a heart beating blood from an empty pocket»

From entrepreneurs, losers

To users and renegades

For factory workers, servers

And hustlers all the same

Single mothers and others

Nobodies, prisoners, no-names

For entrepreneurs, losers

To users and runaways

Alcohol in my system to face the system of living

Marijuana rolled up, money on tables for women

For the strippers and divas

For those who didn’t believe us

We went from single wide homes to homes with twenty foot ceilings

You may say you hate money, money isn’t the issue with you

And all of your bullshit, you bullshit me and I miss you

Save your tears for your love, smile when love ain’t around

I’m in the booth for my family, yes I’m holding you down

Keep pressing play every day

And if they hate, let them hate

Believe in you and that’s all you can do, so fuck what they say

And remember my spirit when that Slumerican flag waves

From entrepreneurs, losers to users and renegades

«But a trigger for a heart beating blood from an empty pocket»

From entrepreneurs, losers

To users and renegades

For factory workers, servers

And hustlers all the same

Single mothers and others

Nobodies, prisoners, no-names

For entrepreneurs, losers

To users and runaways

«I got a gun for a mouth

And a bullet with your name on it

So don’t breathe when I talk

'Cause you haven’t been spoken to

But a trigger for a heart beating blood from an empty pocket»