Yelawolf - F.A.S.T Ride lyrics

Mello Yello can in my hand
Mullet hawk, what?
Country folks don’t talk much
They just get to work sawdust (sawdust)

You know my Uncle Critter said
"You look like you been shot at and missed
Shit at and hit"

On that ass, bitch
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
Yeah, and I be bumpin’ this
Funky-ass shit to ride to
Yeah, on that ass, bitch
And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass
Shit to ride to trunk Muzik
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Mello Yello can in my hand
Mullet hawk, what?
Country folks don’t talk much


They just get to work sawdust
Chainsaw, axe, knife, cut
Firewood, burn, logs, heat
Sleepin’ bag by the bricks: call me the fly
I’m on some shit
Drum this out with two sticks
Supa hot’s too cool for new kicks
Zoom, raps make mummies jealous from a tomb
Knock twice if you feel it
Born to rip, I should’ve been
Perforated by the rings like a Mead notebook
Squares want an artery blocked
When I’m around
Circulated, nerds are in, Urkel made it
I’ll slap Urkel, take his lunch money
Punks they run from me, drunk and upset
But, I don’t run clumsy, punch a perp’
A one, two, three: I’m at the Chelsea Hotel
Like Sid & Nancy with the knife
And two grams of candy
Give me the dizzies, fee, fee, fuck me
Please oh please, don’t leave
Just give me the keys and crank that beat
‘Cause, I might double up
And straight dry heave
But believe, oh believe I’m cold
I’mma freeze this beat
Like Freon, frickin’ neon
That’s me glowing in a snowstorm look here
We in these streets like a pair of Nikes
Well, I might be more like
A pair of nice jeans, cause I’m

On that ass, bitch
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
Yeah, yeah bumpin’ this funky-ass
Shit to ride to on that ass, bitch
And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass
Shit to ride to yeah, and I be bumpin’ this
Funky-ass shit to ride to

So what’s new?
Been on that shit, where’s the atlas?
Thumbtack it, South Cackalack it
Alabama has it, go
Relax in a 1985 box train
Perhaps I’m playin’ Relapse
Boss, Eminem saw the gem in him
Oh, me? yeah, who thought?
Just toss the white trash out the window
Now I’m in a ditch like broken pencils
Empty bottles and stolen rentals
This one is for all my kinfolk
Yeah, bring ‘em in, though
Out the rain, what’s a friend for?
Word, oh for sure, yours truly, at the door
Had to add a syllable to that word
Country, but, oh, of course
Bitches go berserk for certainly
No need to be coerced odd economy
Don’t need no nine-nine-nine-nine-nine
And I know
Just the na, na, na, na, hey hey hey goodbye
And hey let’s roll
These hoes are no good, pills are okay
I just wanna get high, fuck what you say
Wild, the pen-play kind of
Like a samurai sword
With a Bic bitch, bow to sensei
Motherfuckin’ bitch, it’s pay your rent day
Do I not look like my name was MJ
One glove and a fuckin’ pair of penny loafers
And I moonwalk on the tempo like
Billy Jean is not my friend, no

On that ass, ho
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
Yeah, yeah bumpin’ this funky-ass
Shit to ride to on that ass, bitch
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to
On that ass, ho
Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
Let’s go, let’s go yeah, I’m on my shit now
I’m on my shit now… i’m on my shit now
I’m on my shit now… i’m on my
Yeah, I’m on my shit now
I’m on my shit now… let’s go!
Yeah, Lunch break don’t worry for the day
I’m bout to get slung under slung under
Slumerican supa-supa-SupaHot Beats
Catfish really though"