Whiskey In A Bottle - Yelawolf

Yeah

Still on that ass like handcuffs

Up in ya like hand-puppets

Make a mute holla

You should’ve jumped in that Impala homie

Refrigerators never seen ice baby

Not vanilla, not a breeze on the hill

Will make a flame grab a chinchilla

Quite like the words I built up to

Fuck guppies, I see food and I hush puppies

So give me that king crab

And I’ll break its shell, you seen that?

Well fuck 'em if he don’t take it well

So crack the top off that hot, shaking ale

And say «Free Young Struggle» who’s not making bail

He got popped by the feds

Fuck the cops!

Take an L

Fuck it take M-N-O-P, learn how to spell

I’ll pull up to the gate and we’ll skate on these country faggot’s

And until then, fuck 'em, they can have it

Slumerican means: Slum American breed

Gutter raised with world-wide dreams, yeah

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a bullet in the barrel with a hairpin trigger now

Yeah, I’m a landslide

I’m a head case, trainwreck, avalanche comin' down

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a ready made party, I’m whiskey in a bottle now

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaa

I’m whiskey in a bottle now

Still on that gas like

The bottom of my signature shoe, 'Bama red

I’m on that ass like Alabama did LSU

Goose egg, oh lord

Bible Belt raised in your mouth like a cold sore

Roll Fords?

Nah roll tide and roll Chevys

My momma rolls joints, smoke rolls off of the tip

Daddy’s a rolling stone, I’m rolling in shit

With these pigs in the south side

Who you rolling with in the sticks?

With hair weaves and air streams

Cigarette stained walls

Fuck, I can barely breathe

Spittin' shotgun pellets

Out of my fuckin' chili bowl

But am I a hill billy?

No

I am the truth behind these fuckin' illusionist

Yellin' redneck, you about as red as the color blue is

Call me a redneck, and I just tattoo it

Because of the abuse and I use it as therapy in music

So.

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a bullet in the barrel with a hairpin trigger now

Yeah, I’m a landslide

I’m a head case, trainwreck, avalanche comin' down

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a ready made party, I’m whiskey in a bottle now

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaa

I’m whiskey in a bottle now

Still on that grass like John Deere’s

This yard is already cut, you can’t get no work here

Uh, you fags thought it was swag

You was stealing, it turns out I got no peers

Just years of street smarts, so here you go retards

Come hit this bullseye, I’ll give you three darts

One: my last album flopped, two: it wasn’t my time

Three: my fuckin' mama’s selling my pajamas online

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaa

But guess what?

(I'm whiskey in a bottle now)

Fuckin' right, I’m aged, I’m thirty-three

I’m not a child who plays with rap to get a piece, don’t clap

For no MC who’s wack, they get a free slap

Fuck out my car when I smashed in a Caprice, I’m Jack

Sippin' still, whippin' wood wheels

Truck on steroids, illegal to play ball

But dammit how good it feels, drop that black card

Park in the backyard, baby fire up the grill

It’s party time

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a bullet in the barrel with a hairpin trigger now

Yeah, I’m a landslide

I’m a head case, trainwreck, avalanche comin' down

Put your hands to the sky

I’m a ready made party, I’m whiskey in a bottle now

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaa

I’m whiskey in a bottle now