Yelawolf

Yelawolf - Hard White lyrics

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Hard White (Up In The Club) Feat. Li'l Jon

It’s the boy Li’l Jon (Yeah!)

Got my patna Yelawolf wit’ me (Wassup Yela?)

You know it’s time to crank the club up

Let’s go!

Yelawolf

[Yelawolf - Verse 1]

You ain’t gotta lay down on your bed to know you already fucked up

Lettin’ me in the motherfuckin’ game is lettin’ me drunk-drivin’ your truck

When Yelawolf arrived in this club, already had five in my cup

I done took another hit, I done ran into a bitch that’s lookin’ lifeless and stuck

Baby, what’s wrong wit’ you now? What, you ain’t happy wit’ red bottoms?

Mad ’cause I’m in VIP wit’ a fuckin’ Jack bottle?

Wit’ Tom, Dick, and Harry

But I got up in this bitch wit’ a tank top ’cause I spit so very darn quick and scary

That’s why they’re so quick to compare me

But fuck the critics wit’ a spiked dick when it can fit barely

They prob’ly think I’ma Limp Bizkit, their spit’s jelly

But I put ‘em in the woods, I’m a redneck, I’m a hick, tell me

Go ahead: What the fuck does it matter to me?

‘Cause after me, there’ll only be wannabes, and mostly ain’t-never-gonna-bes

Yeah, in this forest, I’m a lonely tree

My limbs are covered in tattoos, and my roots, they run deep

Two bottles, shawty, two bitches waitin’

Two tens, that’s a win-win situation

Happy birthday, I’m feelin’ brand new

Drinks on me … for me, not you

Li’l Jon

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Yela

Still don’t give a fuck

I don’t know what to say after that first verse, I mean, like, damn, I just killed it

What the fuck am I supposed to do with this cow? I done already milked it

Smoke another cigarette, unfiltered, let go of anything that I’m feelin’

They done broke me down so many times before that I’m no longer rappin’, I’m buildin’

Wit’ one brick, two brick, three brick, four

Underneath the steps of my single-wide door

Raised by them dope boys, so I know how them things look

Thanks for the recipe, rest in peace, Wayne Bush

I don’t cook my shit, I don’t break it down for you motherfucker out there waitin’ around

For some rap savior, you better look up at what it is that you facin’ now

‘Cause Jesus drives a Harley, the devil wears Prada

If God was one of us, he’d prob’ly drink vodka

I still kick it at the party when I get rich

‘Cause rich or broke, I’m still as dope, the realest ain’t as real as this

Dead or alive, I’ll put a stamp in this bitch

You’ll never see rock and roll do hip-hop like I did

Two bottles, shawty, two bitches waitin’

Two tens, that’s a win-win situation

Happy birthday, I’m feelin’ brand new

Drinks on me … for me, not you

Li’l Jon

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

Up in the club

Still don’t give a fuck

Yeah (Y’all know we don’t give a fuck)

It’s Ghett-O-Vision (Yeah)

Shady (Yeah)

Still don’t give a fuck (Nah)

(Ya boy Li’l Jon)

(We rep the South)

Happy birthday, Alabama

Up in the club

Don’t give a fuck

(Up in the club)

(Still don’t give a fuck)

(Up in the club)

(Still don’t give a fuck)

I ain’t in the buildin’, I own the buildin’, bitch!

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Thanks to Andrei

Thanks to jj. for correcting these lyrics

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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