Yelawolf - Bowties lyrics
rate meI'm in the black Chevrolet with no tags
Got doors on this bitch like a school bus
Hop on in, motherfucker
Take you for a ride with a loaded ruger
So cold that I might need a coat rack
Look bitch, you only need two puffs
That's crystal meth, Catfish Billy smoking hoopla
All around the south I blow cash
That ain't leather that's new buck
You ain't really balling ruthless
You ain't rolling up on a new truck
I'm all about the Glock fuck no jag
I got this bitch on four's like two plus
Two and this bitch is lubed up
Treat MC's like a used slut
Yeah, bitch, I'm out it
Five go tell your pap that his boy's said howdy
You want to make it rain but would I, I doubt it
These hoes are bad weather, always cloudy
I'mma kill these bitches dig these ditches and
Rocks up out this Chevy trunk before you dead and lost
‘Cause we peeling off in that red Bugatti with bowties
Oh, oh, just me and that Chevrolet
Bowties
Oh, oh, with a motherfucking attitude
Bowties
Oh, oh, you don't want to see that pistol wave
Bowties
Oh, me and that box running up clean and smooth
Bowties
All black Chevy, I'mma take it to the car show
Shouldn't drink and drive but I got some chronic at my condo
Blonde hoe, with me ‘bout to fuck no time for convo'
Want it ‘cause I let her hit the chronic and the blanco
Long stroke, I'mma swing the wheel like a golf pro
Hit it from the back she look behind and saw my charm glow
I took a picture of her pussy for affective feeling
So she got the stepping like she love me through the mind boat
Back inside my seat my speakers beating like a bongo
Bumping Box Chevy me and Wolf a perfect combo
Anyone want it with us can get it they begging for attention
Like Miley Cyrus when she twerking let her tongue show, dumb though
Why you blaming us when you done gone broke
Rap's killing shit like Matt Dillon did in Gunsmoke
I'm just fired up while you getting dried up like a ancho
Chilling but really still feeling like I'm on my grind though
So I'm creeping like a rhino, coming off the Instagram
North side Atlanta and I got it, wanna get a gram
Serving out my window like a burger want a drink, it's ten
Use a better pad now they fucked it up and let me in
Leather interior until they get another print
Of my shoes, hit the runway inside my Chevy then
Hit the gas till the moon we will never land
Ain't nobody fucking with Slumerican, put that on my Chevy
Oh, oh, just me and that Chevrolet
Bowties
Oh, oh, with a motherfucking attitude
Bowties
Oh, oh, you don't want to see that pistol wave
Bowties
Oh, me and that box running up clean and smooth
Bowties
Walk to the mall like fuck you
Give me that Mickey D Super-Sized
Got a fresh pair of J's like two new crack heads
Shoelaces like spud loose, bounce on it
Coffee table full of shake and they breaking up an ounce on it
Tweakers on the hip getting high as a brimstone
Thrown on the tip of a ball handle the symphone
Lean some of them lean on the wall and limp home
Steam mellowin' out of a Chevy Enzo
I put the house on it
Have a seat, bitch, put the couch on it
Take a sigh, bitch, I put the south on it
Take a ride on the one I-89
You talking shit, I might put the crowd on it
It would be another Yelawolf hate ground
Butter on the seats like country crop
But I ain’t no fucking country crop
Puts fear in the heart of a country cop
Every time that I get fucking stopped
Boy, those some nice wheels but you better turn the music down
‘Cause it ain't the big city
Ran off the law with nothing but a ticket
From a fucking hick with a stick and midget dealing with midget and bowtie
Oh, oh, just me and that Chevrolet
Bowties
Oh, oh, with a motherfucking attitude
Bowties
Oh, oh, you don't want to see that pistol wave
Bowties
Oh, me and that box running up clean and smooth
Bowties
