Box Chevy (feat. Rittz The Rapper (Shift K3Y Remix))
Hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey
Yelawolf and I feel like a king in my box Chevy Tell them other wack muthafucks To get the pine box ready
Catfish Billy is lately Don't get slapped wit' the medley Still sippin' on Jack D to my neck And my head start feelin' heavy
Doin' 125 down, I-29 really think I need to start slowin' down But I can't 'cause I gotta pretty blonde thing Sittin' to my right that's blowin' me now
Oh, yeah, she headin' me I think her name might be Becky I was 'bout to drop her off But I had to switch lanes To get the brain she necked me
Aw, no, do you come in two's Please choose a couple of friends That could hoppy in the Coupe
Now we goin' steady But I'm not lookin' for longevity Pipes in the back, the lights of the night Reflect sights through the dash I'm nice to ride pass
My rims are super clean Paint job that glitters and gleams And I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
This whip is built for Queens And you wanna be seen wit' the King Well, I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
Tilted off Jim Beams Sittin' off to the side, I lean And I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
This whip is built for Queens And you wanna be seen wit' the King Well, I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
Fuck a Limousine rather ride ride caprices My speakers vibrate the concrete beneath us Ridin' 85, northbound, shakin' doors down So I turn the speakers louder pissin' off polices
Fuck 5-star chick, gotta porn-star bitch Ridin' shotgun wit' me, gettin' so wet Now she goin' down on me, givin' road head Bussin' on her forehead Then I take her back to the homestead piece
Back in the caprice, took a sack of weed And crumpled it inside a cognac blunt rack Then it's time to jump back on the highway 85 Slumpin' in the seat like I'm hunckback
And my Chevy look so dope old school Vo's on it Got it floatin' like a row boat Gold flakes in the paint drippin' on the road Drivin' slow like a show boat hoe
Don't act like you don't hear me comin' I got the [Incomprehensible] and it's comin' out the clarions 12's in the trunk, flatscreens in the headrest Wit' somethin' 'bout Marion, carry on
I be turnin' heads every time When you see in the Chevy, man, she car-struck And I'm far from hauled up, sup wit' trippin' like a bitch Get in the car, slut, you know you wanna ride
My rims are super clean Paint job that glitters and gleams And I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
This whip is built for Queens And you wanna be seen wit' the King Well, I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
Tilted off Jim Beams Sittin' off to the side I lean And I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
This whip is built for Queens And you wanna be seen wit' the King Well, I wanna see the back of your jeans In the seats (My box Chevy)
Yeah, in the the background wit' the six-pack And ridin', lookin' for the ladies Peanut butter seats, have seat, girl My peanut butter needs jelly
I'll chase you like jelly If you ain't afraid to get messy If you know the game Then I'll let you call the shots like a referee, yeah
Now I'm drinkin' a deuce, deuce, sweet and slow Feelin' like a Deuce, Deuce Bigalow Played the the bitch like piccolo Go anywhere you wanna go, pick a road
Interstate 59, 20, 75, 285, 85, southbound Twins pipes like pow-pow 100 spokes on the vo'