Yelawolf - Hot lyrics
Yelawolf [Michael Wayne Atha] Gadsden, Alabama/Antioch, Tennessee, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Yelawolf - Hot lyrics]
We ain't in it, we above it
Yeah!
Just ran up in the mall with
A quarter sack of heroin
Chocolate chip ecstasy
'Bout to sell a couple to a redhead, yeah
I'ma meet him in the back in the Burger King
Said he was an Eminem fan
So I gave him an
Autograph and said vicariously
And I never use that sparingly
American, please, take two on me
Get a pair of new chucks
Put 'em in the back seat
Right next to the other fifty pair
I put 'em on now, ready, I'm fresh as fuck
I change clothes like I never
Had shit to wear
Like I never had a new whip to clean
Scrubbin' white walls, I can get tipped
Yeah
Like I've never had a bucket seat to lean
Grippin' woodgrain 'til I catch a pistol
Yeah
I'ma head over to the bar
Reach in the toolbox
Throw a monkey wrench and catch a ratchet
Head up into the car, reach in the glove box
Pop the trunk and go jack a rabbit
In the mood to be rude, crude and trashy
What's new but a credit card usin' plastic
Gotta carry two dollar bills in
The back of the
Chain wallet just to feel like I'm average
I'm
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine
Keepin' 'em up
Baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin'
'em up, baby
Hot
And I'm feelin' sketchy
Fuck it, I'ma let the lead doodle (brr)
You feelin' breathy
Chasin' me down like a bottle of Yoo-hoo
But I'm a star, I'm like a space student
Boy, check the clock up in the bird
I'm coocoo
You walkin' out the club like a wet noodle
Put your boy on a leash like a pet poodle
Bitch, firecracker
Nobody would light 'cause that
Fuse is too short
An evangelist for the dope man
I got the plug, what's he abusin' you for?
Hittin' for the low like a basement
New floors
So keep your head up like a compass due north
You comin' round the mud in the heavy Chevy
No Benz to him, no crown vic', the blue Ford
Still kickin' Dixies
Still spit this filthy dirt
The southern view for
The gutter and the motherfuckerin'
Crooks to do court
Thanks to play I'm still kickin' new doors
Down, I'm still bustin' locks for you boys
Steal this shit like I stole manure
Smoke bellowin' out of a chimney stack
I'm burnin' up a track like
A full pack of Newports
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine
Keepin' 'em up
Baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin'
'em up, baby
Hot
All motherfuckin' day
Cambo, give me that moonshine, boy
Fuckin' gettin' it, yeah!
And I really don't mind
Whether or not you consider me as a rapper
I wrote a book on how to flip on the pattern
They forget about the wolf
Now they're flippin' it backwards
Ooh, what a rotten apple
Fuckin' worms, just bait and tackle
So as a matter of fact
You're better off leavin' me out
Of the rappers chapter
So while the old turntable wobble around
I'ma hit another shot, swallow it down
Take a purple bag off a bottle of Crown
And spare no change, follow me now
Every single record was a part of me now
They wanted to hold a piece and
A part of me down
Motherfuckers are 'bout to get all of me now
ET phone home, callin' me now
Quite simply put, I'm infinitely good
Just who I am
Meant to be this hood, trippin' out all day
Just two more grams, I'm up in these woods
Yeah
And like an oak tree that's poking
Off of the riverbank, I be hangin' lowkey
Throwin' my cigarette in the fire
Like an old chief
Packin' a bowl in the corn
Pipe with gold teeth
I'm
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine
Keepin' 'em up
Baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine
Keepin' 'em up
Baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine
Keepin' 'em up
Baby
Hot, one hundred degrees in the booth, I get
Cold, me comin' again
I'm runnin' at the mouth
Snap, 51-5-0, I'm outta control, I'm
Dope, should've been cocaine, keepin'
'em up, baby
Hot
Hitchy-witchy country ass shit
What you talkin' 'bout?
Catfish, motherfucker!