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yelawolf - bloody sunday freestyle كلمات الأغنية

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[intro]
yelawolf
catfish billy
m.w.a. ghetto cowboy, motherf-cker
brian jones

[verse]
yeah, never had to walk away from anybody
always been about it from the jump
yeah, never been a hater, never gave a f-ck about a hater
never been a punk
yeah, been an innovator, f-ck an imitator
drop another hot potato son
take ’em back to feed my park
with baby d and the kings of crunk
rest in peace grip plyaz, speakerfoxxx, and lenny’s bar
rest in peace, zoo, you ain’t dead but to me you are
still dixie mafia b-tch, still waving that flag, i’m
new south in everything i drop, whether i sing or rap, ask dax
suit up, you gonna need a haz-mat
leaving these f-ckers chewed up
like a muskrat in a backpack
i’ll hang up the ku klux and i ain’t got to act black
i’ll crack a cracker like i crack a plastic bag of cracker jacks
pull up your bra, quit spilling your guts
you better cork your bo-ttle
you feeling yourself, like jerking off to my-tunes
you willing to bet, i’ll make a splash like pot-holes
after it rains, with your name just like a snot nose
you’ll be running, trying to escape what’s coming
but the exit’s blocked, you’re f-cked, oh to be a woman
there’s only one michael wayne, there’s only one klever
as for the other white boy from gadsden (pst), whatever
you’re welcome, now take that petty diss and run with it
f-ck around and i’ll surround you like circ-mferences
you build a house of hate around what i have brung to this
game, i’ll make that place your home
like the sons of mumford did
lame, i’m all the way up, woke, turnt
you think you flame, you all the way suck, choke, burnt
b-tch i’m on fire like holiday nuts, holding firm
you want the go, i’m all the way buck, you’ll learn
hop in the backseat b-tch, hip-hop is snoozing
you could use an uber, like a student pupil
i’m a teacher, reach ya hand for the ruler, i’ma bruise your ego
abuse and move onto the hall, against the wall stupid
who’s the man? who’s the tutor?
letters flying ’til the ghetto crying
the police are saying now, “who’s the shooter?”
here i go, with a trenchcoat and a black rifle
ten toes down up like a light pole
middle finger up like a black rhino’s horn
i was born for the storm, i’m at home in a sh-t cyclone
never let bygones be bygones
rather i’ll say, “see ya later, adios”, b-tch
rapping obese is just bygone
never thought the culture that i loved would be this sleazy
his videos all look alike, no wonder they can’t see me
is this the guy that said he was the hottest white boy
since the one with dyed blonde hair? what the f-ck
hold up, g—easy
i can’t let this tom cruise lookin’ motherf-cker just paddle by
don’t know if i’m watching vanilla ice or vanilla sky
marshall mathers may have ignored you
but if you want the smoke, bring the foil
i’ll boil you till the kettle’s dry
have a nice day suave
i’m a different breed, i’m a wolf, ok?
got so many styles i could be a wardrobe boy
so little boy flows some o.j. poured in the gl-ss
with your b-ttermilk pancakes
mama’s little helper, daddy’s little bae
put the bae bae kids in my chevrolet
brought the pepper spray and a banana for aks
b-tch holler, “mayday, mayday”
then take it to the bank, it’s another payday
oh, you a baller? well, take the ball and
let me here kick that sh-t pelé
the nerve of the sh-t they say, i’m permanently amazed
and your whiskey sucks, f-ckin’ one sip
i wanted to go straight back to aa
who else? i would diss post malone but he don’t even rap
f-ck it, f-ck post malone, just because
let’s see if he answers back
all that chain st-tching from chill bill
and the cowboy boots and hats
d-mn posty, why can’t we be friends?
our clothes already match
poser, biter, appropriation thief
give a f-ck how many records you sold
every fan you made is a leaf off of my tree
boy you’re my seed, another mullet in the gang
with the teeth i see
i just picked a bone with post malone
and did it all on a b-side beat
dribble through the middle up
crossover on ’em like i’m in the nba
look i don’t really give a f-ck
tell me what do i gotta lose anyway
still mobbin’ in the pickup
throw a middle finger out the window when i wave
trunk muzik iii bruh, you gon’ know how i feel about mgk
beethoven is rolling over in his grave
cause i’m a conductor anaconda
with the musical energy, electrical wave
prodigy of an anomaly, shady
b-mping daily something crazy, someone save me
nothing made me something baby
no one’s playing, f-ck you pay me

[outro]
trunk muzik iii

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