[Verse 1: Yelawolf]
Roll down the window in the chevy and
I listen to the critics but they really
Wasn't saying shit, Buddy,
I'm a gutter motherfucker from an Alabama creek, you don't know
Who you're playin' with,
They talk so much that I bet one of these pebbles under me get
Laryngitis the wave is so contagious, so who gave it?
Apparently I did
Put fish in the back of my boat,
I'm a fisherman, I'm a reel 'em in, mackerel
I'm a give 'em ten minutes,
Then put 'em back in the water there, just to see 'em all float
And kinda like mixtapes in the back on my trunk, buddy, yeah,
I got 'em all sold
In Alabama with an arm and hammer, swimmin' in propaganda,
I got 'em all, whoa
Promenade, country boy, get out of my way,
gallon of sweet tea, a packet of lemonade
Smackin' a faggot,
I crack a bat on the pen and page, no homo, anyway
Any stage, rip it any
Way the independent way, look, have you seen his Js?
Footwork, send em' in a rage,
feelin' like a millionaire on minimum wage don't need a Mercedes
To take your girl, my Chevy is sick, Earl
I love to play with my mullet, while she sip syrup
Hold up,
Alabama funk make you lose your teeth like a
Mountain Dew soda
Some saltines wanna live in the box, but guess what?
I'm the cracker who showed up

[Hook: Eminem] x2

Cause sometimes I feel like its so hard
For me to come up with shit to say. Aay!
I'm at a loss for words cause ya'll already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Left the crib with 10 grand bought a hundred pair
I'm the coach I can show you how to be a player
5 faces said the fitted bitches love my hair
Camo shorts go with anything I wanna wear
They let me in the club fuck the dress code
Me and all my niggas rollin' up the best smoke
OG kush from the west coast
Oh you down to fuck? well shorty lets go
Diamonds in my chain niggas tryna steal my lane
Chronic in my brain bitch I'm reppin' Taylor gang
Smoke till I'm insane drinkin' till I'm throwin' up
Only papers if you Taylor'd nigga throw it up
High socks low cuts smell that good weed then you know its us
That yellow car pullin up them niggas ain't hot
so they ain't close to us
Down to fly get two fingers and throw em' up

[Chrous: Eminem] x2

Cause sometimes I feel like its so hard
For me to come up with shit to say. Aay!
I'm at a loss for words cause ya'll already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!
I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!
I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!
I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!