Yelawolf - Alabama lyrics

(Intro) Ladies in the back seat drunk, in and out of that Window right for us, ding dong Cigarette buds in the floorboard, honey mint Another 30 pack in the trunk (Verse) And I'm covered in tattoos, step in this pocket my no. 10 pencils and shoes Root of the f**in' loom, bu*ter constrict the roots Morp yo f**in' lawn with an 82' vehicle Put premium gla** in immediate gla** Chug it, spit five and laugh in a helium mask Y'all couldn't f** with a verse if you rehearsed a diss Six months late it and gave it a DjDrama for horse stamps I don't baggle, I war, I'm from the country where dope dealers run the rap game sh** f** I'mma battle fir?! I ain't with that bullsh**, I ain't no matador I'm emcee 8 tapes, 808, rattlin' floors I'm an AK, love - hate, I'm a catalyst for it Crackers who act-a-rabbit and jump when I crack the door Speakin' of act-a-rabbit you already know who I'm with I dunno why you still actin' unsure, sh** I feel like slappin' these who*es Shut up, loser, you stupid, reach in that cooler and grab me a course It don't matter if you mad that I'm more badder and more savage Than these other rappers before Because of my ? clothes and my pack in the patch record b**h, s** a stack o' sh** while I stack up a sack of awards In and they goons they bang and they pride, they b**h and they moan But this is what I see when they ride (I tell you, I tell you, I tell you you must die) Well, let me do you a f**ing favor In ? over I buy, and I'm on a higher for ya Gonna need to provide Picture ID to sit with Messiah's boy in the sky Ancient Mayan convoyants, the portals have not arrived Through this door in my mortal mind, Tom Sawyer in the divine Took 4 years under the pines, developed the greater great But then poured you a gla** of wine Now drink the unthinkable, put a flame to the tip of that joint And then smoke the undreamable Cuz me bein' who I am is nothin' less but a shrink into angels to daemons A preacher who's leanin', a prophet, a mystic And they all twisted, jerkin' off in a cup with the mixture of seamen Nine months later, me and my momma's playn peek-a-boo You play with me, I put a sheet to use And I ain't talkin' ?, I'm talkin' meat and booth Drop a hot verse and a hot deuce and kick the sh** off the street literally b**h, you can eat a shoe My soul is sad like my old dad I muddy water infused it with rude j**s your cold a** So d** make me happy I'm alcoholic who fell in the shallow end of the swimming pool Holding a fatty Broke every bone but that blunt was bone dry Cause I held that b**h in the sky I ain't sacrificing no high If a high spitter with a couple of f**in' scars And the first thing that I said when I got in that f**in' hard was (Show me the way to the next whiskey bottle) Listen (Ask why, ah, don't ask why!) (Show me the way to the next whiskey bottle) (Oh, don't ask why, ah, don't ask why!) (f** if we don't find the next whiskey bar) (I tell you, we must die, I tell you, we must die) (I tell you, I tell you we must die) Yeah, uh This freestyle is dedicated to @DHOWELL51 from Vancouver BC Congratulations, buddy, f**in' slomation Weed smokin' muthaf**in' you, man, I saw yo page Every f**in' video you like exhalin' bong heads and sh** Well, keep it up! Everybody, follow @DHOWELL51 @DHOWEwell51 Vancouver BC here I come