Yelawolf - F.A.S.T RIDE lyrics

rate me

On that ass, bitch

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

And I be bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, bitch

And I be bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

Trunk Muzik

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

Mellow yellow, 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

Sleeping back by the bricks, come with the fly, I’m on some shit

Drum this out with two sticks

Super high school Coupe 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 but 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 City Nancy with the knife and two grams of candy

Get the dizzies fee, fee, fuck me

Please oh please don’t tease

Just give me them keys and crank that beat

‘Cause I might double up and strike, dry heave

But believe, oh believe I’m cold, I’mma freeze this beat

Like Freon, fricking neon, that’s me glowing in a snowstorm

Look, we hit these streets like a pair of Nikes

Well, it might be more like a pair of nice jeans, ‘cause I’m

On that ass, bitch

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, bitch

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

And I be bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

So what’s new?

Been on that shit, where’s the atlas?

Thumbtack it, South Kakalak it, Alabama has it, go

Relax in a 1985 box train, perhaps I’m playing 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 to 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 big bitch, bow to sensei

Motherfucking bitch, pay your rent day

Do I not look like my name was MJ

One glove and a fucking pair of penny loafers

And I moonwalk on the tempo like Billy Jean is not my friend, no

I’m just on that ass, hoe

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, bitch

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, hoe

Bumping this funky-ass shit to ride to

Yeah, I’m on my shit now

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go