Yelawolf - Whiskey In A Bottle Lyrics
[Verse 1]Still on that ass likeHandcuff's up in it likeHand-puppets makin' you hollerYou should've jumped in that impala homieRefrigerators never seen ice babyNot vanilla, not a reason thatYela make a flame grab a chinchillaQuite like the words I pulled up to***** guppies, I see food in a hush puppySo give me that king crapAnd I'll break a shellYou seen that?Well ***** it, if he don't take it wellSo crack the top of that hot, shaking aleAnd say "free Young Struggle" who's not making bailHe got popped by the feds***** the cops! Take a nail***** it take M-N-O-P, learn how to spellI'll pull up to the gateAnd we'll skate on this country, faggotAnd until then, ***** 'em, they can have itSlumerican meansSlum American breedGutter raised with worldwide dreams, yeah[Hook]Put your hands to the skyI'm a bullet in a barrel with a hair pin trigger nowAnd I'mma landslideI'm a head case train wreck avalanche comin' downPut your hands to the skyI'm a ready made partyI'm whiskey in a bottle nowLalalalalalalalalaaI'm whiskey in a bottle now[Verse 2]Still on that gas likeThe bottom of my signature shoe, 'Bama redI'm on that ass like Alabama did LSUYou said "Oh lord" Bible Belt raisedIn your mouth like a cold soreRolled Ford's? Nah roll tide and rode Chevy'sMy mama rolls jointsSmoke rolls off with a timpDaddy's a rolling stoneI'm rolling in shit with these pigsAnd the south sideWho you rolling with in the sticks?With hair weawes and airstreamsCigarette stained walls*****, I can't barely breatheSpittin' shutgun pelletsOut of my *****in' chili bowl...But am I a hill billy, no!I am the truth behind these *****in' illusionistYellin' redneck, you about as red as the color blue isCall me a redneck, and I just tatoo itBecause of the abusin' I use it as therapy in musicSo...[Hook][Verse 3]Still on that grass likeJohn Deers this yard is already cutYou can't get no work hereYou fags started with swag, you was stealingIt turns out I got no peersJust years of street smartsSo here you go retardsCome hit this bulls eyeI'll give you three dartsOne, my last album floppedTwo, it wasn't my timeThree, my *****in' mama's selling my pajamas online(Lalalalalalalalalaa)But guess what?(I'm whiskey in a bottle now)*****in' right, I'm agedI'm dirty-3, I'm not a child who plays with crack to get a pieceDon't clap, for no MC who's wackThen get a free slap***** out my car when I smashed in a CapriceI'm Jack sippin' stillWhippin' wood wheelsTruck on steriodsIllegal to play ballBut damn it how good it feelsDrop that black cardPark in the backyardBaby fire up the grillIt's party time[Hook]
