[Intro] [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 let her 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!