Aye Boo, get these motherfuckers
|
And pass that jack
|
|
I see you bitches talkin' loud, but you ain't sayin' shit
|
Get the fuck from 'round here, you don't rep my shit
|
You ain't from my city, you don't know about this
|
You don't want that drama, you ain't ready for it bitch!
|
|
Now throw it up! (Yeah ho) Throw it up!
|
Throw it up! (Yeah ho) You ain't ready for it bitch
|
Throw it up! (Yeah ho) Throw it up! Throw it up!
|
You ain't ready for it bitch
|
|
|
I already got 2 cars in a yard that don't run
|
So why would I wanna break shit down for you
|
Better be confused with the punch lines and bars that I lunch
|
Here the king if archery come
|
With a cracker dick to fuck you and that pussy carpet you munch
|
If I'm not hardly the one
|
You must be barely the one
|
Billy if really you're kiddin'
|
Bitch I'm the prodigal son
|
And I'm stuntin' like my daddy
|
Dr-dr-drinkin' like my mama
|
Co-co-country like my uncle
|
Stuttering like a CD in a dunk
|
P-p-p-punk
|
And I'm in a blue Chevy runnin' over motherfuckers in first
|
I ain't even shift gears yet,
|
I ain't even here yet I'm outta this earth, right ,yeah hoe
|
But I just hit the surface and I'm about to walk into a bank,
|
Wit' a shank and a black can of paint and check the clerk: where the keys?
|
Bitch you better check your purse, I got a brick of herb,
|
And I hit the syrup and I'm feeling like I might just hit the curb
|
So get the fuck outta my way buddy
|
You don't wanna walk around the chicken house with a hawk little puppy dog
|
|
I see you bitches talkin' loud, but you ain't sayin' shit
|
Get the fuck from round' here, you don't rep my shit
|
You ain't from my city, you don't know about this
|
You don't want that drama, you ain't ready for it bitch!
|
|
Now throw it up! Yeah hoe!Throw it up!
|
Throw it up! Yeah hoe! You ain't ready for it bitch
|
Throw it up! Yeah hoe! Throw it up! Throw it up!
|
You ain't ready for it bitch
|
|
Bitch please, you don't want to step up to this Mrs.
|
G-A-N-G-S-T-A Boo make a nigga hit his knees
|
I'm up in the building
|
Preaching to my children
|
I don't be taking no shit from you haters
|
You'll make me hurt one of your feelings
|
Naa, naa, ne, naa, naa
|
Pick your face up off the floor
|
I got you feeling sad naa
|
You be on that hokeewag
|
Hokeewag is bullshit
|
Run into this gangsta have your preacher at the pulpit, bitch!
|
I was born on the Mississippi River
|
Take no shit from a bitch or a nigga
|
So, so crazy got a fucked up temper
|
Bipolar, not Nikki, I'm worser, I'll hurt you
|
I gotta crazy ass mind game
|
My nigga, I'm a lion untamed
|
Hunt your ass down in my jungle
|
I do this, I tell them hoes
|
You ain't ready for it bitch!
|
|
I see you bitches talkin' loud, but you ain't sayin' shit
|
Get the fuck from round' here, you don't rep my shit
|
You ain't from my city, you don't know about this
|
You don't want that drama, you ain't ready for it bitch!
|
|
Now throw it up! Yeah hoe!Throw it up!
|
Throw it up! Yeah hoe! You ain't ready for it bitch
|
Throw it up! Yeah hoe! Throw it up! Throw it up!
|
You ain't ready for it bitch
|
I see you bitches takin' loud
|
But you don't want that shit
|
|
Me and Yelawolf tear the roof of this motherfucker
|
You ain't got the oomph you're a hoof to the foot of an elephant
|
Hello toots you look so eloquent that's what I tell a cunt
|
Come sit up front cause you're kickin' my seat
|
And I'm tryin' to the tell the cashier what I want!
|
They say I act like an asshole, when I pull up at the White Castle
|
And I ask for an appli-cation, throw it back in their face and
|
Tell the bitch I'm a rapper, then I wrap her
|
In the head with a Whopper that I bought from BK
|
You expect me to be proper?
|
Bitch you better pop in a CD of me immediately, slut hoe
|
Prada? Not a chance, I was thinkin' about buyin' you some clothes
|
But Target was closed so I decided to mosey on over to K-Mart, but the doors
|
Was locked, what about some shoes?
|
I thought, great I suppose
|
So I go to Payless but what'do you know?
|
They didn't carry a size 8 in hoes!
|
Oh! This is ugly boy swag, puttin' toe tags on you motherfuckin' ho bags
|
What a trailer trash pioneer, I am yeah, that's why I'm here
|
I don't got a rhyme book it's more like a motherfuckin' diary that diarrhea
|
Me, Yelawolf and Gangsta Boo came here to show you a thing or two
|
About sign language, middle fingers aimed at you
|
So we don't gotta scream at you!
|
Ow! I just bit my bottom lip, it was an accident
|
I went to go tell them all to go get fucked
|
But I'm never gonna bite my tongue, little bitch throw it up
|
|
I see you bitches takin' loud
|
But you don't want that shit
|
|
-----------------
|
Throitup
|
| Eminem |
