(Intro)
|
(You know my Uncle Critter said,
|
"You look like you been shot at and missed
|
Shit at and hit"
|
|
(Hook)
|
On that ass, bitch
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, and I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, on that ass, bitch
|
And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Trunk Muzik, bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
|
(Verse 1)
|
Mello Yello can in my hand,
|
Mullet hawk, what?
|
Country folks don’t talk much
|
They just get to work : sawdust
|
Chainsaw, axe, knife, cut firewood, burn, logs, heat
|
Sleepin’ bag by the bricks: call me the fly, I’m on some shit
|
Drum this out with two sticks
|
Soup a high school Coupe for new kicks
|
Zoom, raps make mummies jealous from a tomb
|
Knock twice if you feel it
|
Born to rip, I should’ve been
|
Perforated by the rings like a Mead notebook
|
Squares want an artery blocked when I’m around
|
Circulated, nerds are in, Urkel made it
|
I’ll slap Urkel, take his lunch money
|
Punks they run from me, drunk and upset
|
But I don’t run clumsy, punch a perp’
|
A one, two, three: I’m at the Chelsea Hotel
|
Like Sid & Nancy with the knife, and two grams of candy
|
Give me the dizzies, fee, fee, fuck me
|
Please oh please don’t leave
|
Just give me the keys and crank that beat
|
‘Cause I might double up and straight dry heave
|
But believe, oh believe I’m cold, I’mma freeze this beat
|
Like Freon, frickin’ neon, that’s me glowing in a snowstorm
|
Look here, we in these streets like a pair of Nikes
|
Well, I might be more like a pair of nice jeans, cause I’m…
|
|
(Hook)
|
On that ass, bitch
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, and I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, on that ass, bitch
|
And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Trunk Muzik, bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
|
(Verse 2)
|
So what’s new?
|
Been on that shit, where’s the atlas?
|
Thumbtack it, South Cackalack it, Alabama has it, go
|
Relax in a 1985 box train, perhaps I’m playin’ Relapse
|
Boss, Eminem saw the gem in him
|
Oh, me? Yeah, who thought?
|
Just toss the white trash out the window
|
Now I’m in a ditch like broken pencils
|
Empty bottles and stolen rentals
|
This one is for all my kinfolk
|
Yeah, bring ‘em in, though
|
Out the rain, what’s a friend for?
|
Word, oh for sure, yours truly, at the door
|
Had to add a syllable to that word
|
Country, but, oh, of course
|
Bitches go berserk for certainly, no need to be coerced
|
Odd economy, don’t need no nine-nine-nine-nine-nine and I know
|
Just the na, na, na, na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye, and hey, let’s roll
|
These hoes are no good, pills are okay
|
I just wanna get high, fuck what you say
|
Wild, the pen-play kind of like a samurai sword
|
With a big bitch, bow to sensei
|
Motherfuckin’ bitch, it’s pay your rent day
|
Do I not look like my name was MJ
|
One glove and a fuckin’ pair of penny loafers
|
And I moonwalk on the tempo like Billy Jean is not my friend, no
|
|
(Hook)
|
On that ass, bitch
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, and I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, on that ass, bitch
|
And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Trunk Muzik, bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
|
(Outro)
|
Yeah… yeah…
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
On that ass, bitch
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
On that ass, ho
|
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
|
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
|
Let’s go, let’s go
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
I’m on my shit now…
|
I’m on my shit now…
|
I’m on my shit now…
|
I’m on my…
|
Yeah, I’m on my shit now…
|
I’m on my shit now…
|
Let’s go!
|
|
-----------------
|
F.A.S.T Ride
|
| Yelawolf |
