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feat, Shawty Fatt & Yelawolf |
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[Hook – Rittz] |
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Yep, yep, yep, ************ I’m all about my (profit) |
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Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit) |
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Yep, yep, yep, so stay the ****** up out my (profit) |
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Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah |
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[Verse 1 – Yelawolf] |
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I got my buddies on the corner, in the back of the club with a sack |
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And they rolling up a jointer, smoking that country stash |
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You ain’t never seen a bull rider bumping UGK |
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Nah homie, you ain’t never seen that |
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****** it, [?] |
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Like a bucket seat |
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Hip hop make em all lean back |
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Make a ping pong ball jealous of the bounce |
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Chevrolet sitting tall like a cloud |
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Yeah, pick another trailer park girl up |
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Dirty blonde digger, ding dong, get out |
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Yeah, Imma let the lid out, ****** puffing in this jar, lightning bug |
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Southern hospitality, but I hospitalize you cause I’m nice enough |
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To spot a punk like a homophobic |
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I’m on it, my opponents know it |
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Get your money up D-boy |
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I ain’t a D-boy, but my folks they grow it |
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Done clipped the bud and done sold it |
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I been sipping Bud, you ain’t noticed? |
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I’m in the bible belt like a church, in the lobby |
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With an offering tray for that profit |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 2 – Shawty Fatt] |
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Let me get started |
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Targeting artists, ain’t no dodging em, lodging them |
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Cause they fraudulous, yeah, my ho might been sporting ************t |
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No tours and ************t, no super Nintendo, but I got cartridges |
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Car******an ************t, working my big old tool like I know carpentry |
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Pardon me it’s the, ****** you know me, the hottest commodity |
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Probably catch me posted at penny province in poverty |
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Cause they copping it, stopping me, nope |
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No [?] copping me, nope |
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P O T B E L L, why the hell they riding my tail? |
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I’ll slow it down a minute (what?) |
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Cause I ain’t been around a minute |
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These ******s feeling themselves cause I let em borrow the crown a minute |
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And I'll admit I get beside myself sometimes |
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Only cause I know I got ****** rhymes |
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And my punch lines will ****** wit yo mind |
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I’m bucking, bout my |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 3 – Rittz] |
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I am a real Slumerican |
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Told Yelawolf he can swear me in |
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I got a heavy double barrel in my box Chevy |
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When my album drop, everybody scared again |
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And I’m prepared to win at all costs |
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Y’all talk a lot of ************t, tryna tear my skin |
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And rumor has it I’m crazy, I need to see a therapist |
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Well if the shoe fits, ****** it Imma wear it then |
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Cause I’m a go getter, I would swear for ten |
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I’m bout to turn up like a sombrero rim |
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I'm kinda like a modern day Larry Flynn |
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It’s Slum ************t, baby ****** Katy Perry fans |
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I rep Atlanta, I ain’t never been to Paris, France |
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I switch lanes, crossing over like I’m Jeremy Lin |
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You can't admire me, don’t let me catch you staring pimp |
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I’m like a great white shark in this aquarium |
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When I was young, I knew kids out caroling |
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Around the holidays, they were pistol carrying |
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In the spare, getting paper was imperative |
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Reaching in my pocket, only thing there was lint |
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Well I compare with then, don’t want to spare a cent |
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We suited up in all black, in a pair of tens |
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I ran up in a local baller's house, I lay it down |
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Mother******, show me where it is |
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I’m bout to take that profit |
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[Hook] |