Lyrics : Michael Atha/W. Washington/L. Mitchell/M. Mathers
Music : Michael Atha/W. Washington/L. Mitchell/M. Mathers
I see you b*****s talking loud but you aint saying shit
Get the f-ck from round here, you don't rep my shit
You aint from my city, you don't know about this
You don't want that drama you aint ready for it b***h
Now throw it up, （yeah hoe）
throw it up （yeah hoe）
Throw it up （yeah hoe）
You aint ready for it b***h,
throw it up
（Yeah hoe） throw it up
throw it up
You aint ready for it b***h
I already got 2 cars on the yard that don't run
So why would I wanna break shit down for you
Better be confused with the punchlines and bars that I launch
Here the king of archery come, with a cracker d**k
The f-ck you and that p-ssy carpet you munch
If I'm not hardly the one, you must be barely the one
Baby really, you kidding, b***h I'm the prodigal son
And I'm stuntin like my daddy
d-dr-d-drinkin' like my mama
Country like my uncles, stuttering like a CD in a DONK bump bump bump
And I'm in a blue Chevy, running over mutha****as in first
I aint even shift gears yet, I aint even here yet
I'm outta this earth, right （yeah hoe）
But I just hit the surface
And I'm bout to walk into a bank with a shank and black can of paint and check the clerk
Where the keys?
b***h you better check your purse
I got a brick of herb and I hit this herb? and I'm feeling I might just hit the curb
So get the **** outta my way, buddy you don't wanna run around the chicken house with the heart of a puppy dog
Yelawolf and Eminem, ****!
Suckering suckatash, yeah suck a d**k b***h
I see you b*****s talking loud but you aint saying shit
Get the f-ck from round here, you don't rep my shit
You aint from my city, you don't know about this
You don't want that drama you aint ready for it b***h
Now throw it up, （yeah hoe） throw it up （yeah hoe）
Throw it up （yeah hoe） throw it up
You aint ready for it b***h, throw it up
（Yeah hoe） throw it up
You aint ready for it b***h
b***h please you don't wanna step up to this misses
G-A-N-G-S-T-A Boo, make a nigga hit his knees when
I'm up in the building, preaching to my children
I don't be taking no shit from you haters
You make me hurt one of your feelings
hahahahaha, Na-nani-nah-nah
Pick ya face up off the floor, I got you feeling sad now
You be on that…is ****ed up
Run into this gangsta have ya preacher at the pulpit
b***h, I was born on the Mississippi river
Take no shit from a b***h or a nigga
So so crazy got a f-cked up temper
Bi-polar, not Nicki I'm worser
I'll hurt ya
I got a crazy *ss mind game
My nigga, I'm a lion untamed
Hunt ya *ss down in my jungle
I do this, I tell them hoes
You aint ready for it b***h
I see you b*****s talking loud but you aint saying shit
Get the f-ck from round here, you don't rep my shit
You aint from my city, you don't know about this
You don't want that drama you aint ready for it b***h
Now throw it up, （yeah hoe） throw it up （yeah hoe）
Throw it up （yeah hoe） throw it up
You aint ready for it b***h, throw it up
（Yeah hoe） throw it up
You aint ready for it b***h
Me an' Yelawolf tear the roof off this muthaf-cka
You aint got the umph, you're a hoof, to the foot of an elephant
Hello tuts you look so eloquent, it's what I tell a cunt
Come sit up front cause you kicking my seat and I'm tryna tell the cashier what I want
They say I act like an *sshole
When I pull up at the White Castle
And I ask for an application, throw it back in her face an'
Tell the b***h I'm a rapper, then I wack her in the head with a Whopper
That I bought from BK, you expect me to be proper?
b***h you better pop in a CD of me immediately, SLUT, HOE
Skidda di da da. Prada? Nada chance
I was thinkin' about buying you some clothes
But Target was closed so I decided to mosey on over to K-Mart
But the doors was, was locked, what about some shoes I thought
Great I suppose, so I go to Payless but what'dya know
They don't carry a size 8 in HOES! Oh!
This is ugly boy swag, puttin' toe tags on you muthaf-ckin' hoe bags
What a trailer trash pioneer?
I am here, that's why I'm here
I don't got a rhyme book it's more like a muthaf-ckin' diary of 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!
Oww! I just bit my bottom lip, it was an accident
I went to go tell 'em all to go get BUCKED
But I'm not gonna bite my tongue, little b***h throw it up