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30.09.2013, 02:16
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Yelawolf- No hands
Nemajeure
Junior Member
 
Аватар для Nemajeure
 
Регистрация: 30.09.2013
Сообщений: 9
Вес репутации: 0
Nemajeure is on a distinguished road


Annotate [Hook]
Look mama, no hands
I’m standing on top of the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussys, not at all
Yela, how’s it going?
Oh man, I’m standing on top of the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussys, not at all

[Verse 1]
Ain’t no reason to quit, what the fuck I look like
To put a cease and desist on this heat that I spit, shit, Bitch!
I believe in my wits, Enough to believe on my kids
Won’t be home till Christmas
Chevy’s on the wish list, no Santa Claus, no ma’am, no problems
I’m stuck in play like a fair ball
Know you love to call it trails and hip hopin in the south
But this country rap tunes
Got a bitch in the back room with a open mouth ah
But sacrifice it all and lord knows it
With my life on the bullseye
Make a camera be jealous of my focus
And that’s Shady if you ain’t notice
The things loaded, I put that on my great grand daddy named Otis
In a traffic jam, I got my lane open
Play the game with the same token
You did and crack the Bank open
When they said the rap game was in the drought
I was swimming in so much dope I had break my lifejacket out

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Get a work out bitch, run your lips
I know you’d dig a hole six feet deep with a spoon
Just to see me trip
You window shopping and can’t see the gift
When the shit is sitting in front of your face
Like cement in between the bricks
If the world had name for me, I’d be Slumerican
This whole shit started out with, Bitch bet I can
And I do it with Casio and a farmers tan and
On the top of the hundred grand, uh, bet I stand
And I made it through cause I had heart
Waking up to roaches in my cereal box
Buddy, that’s a bad start
Food stamps in the Pathmark
When some of these bitch ass rappers would take a dick to say they had it hard
Don’t make one of these slums come intercept you
Enter your dorm room and punk you, you internet goons
Im spring loaded with the salt of an old man drinkin a fifth
And steering with my knee in an old van like hey

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
A couple of loose screws ain’t stopping a train from moving
A couple of bucks short of a bill and im still one hundred proofing
Under the heat like I been metal roofing
In a trench coat and a black hoody,head banging to heavy metal music
I’m now on, thank God, Bamma its on
Throwing rocks out the window on 20,that’s a milestone
Hello tomorrow, Yesterday is now gone
I dedicate this song to me, Fuck how wrong
Shoe laced up, with the Mainstream face up
With the same team that I came up with
Mayne what!
Changed the game up, like a change up
With a pain that'll drain on to
Bitch you better remain tough
Mayne what!
Used to help Weezy pack up 50 pounds
Green bay packin a bowl up
A broke soul packin a couch
The landlord used to kick me out
But I went from packing my house, to packing THE house
Biiiitch
Like

[Hook]
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