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Dust Broom
Yelawolf feat. DJ Muggs, Christian Rose & Sam Lee
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Ha, ha
Quick, quick, quick with it
I'm slick with it
A motherfucker like me been hitted
I been in it, I'm deep in the game
Like when she spit with it
Tryna comprehend all the juice that I been spillin'
Ha, ha, yeah
Sippy cup, you better double up, I just need a couple bucks
Tattoos on my face are no cover ups but the ink just doesn't cover enough
Tryna hide from the pain but I just bottle lit up
I wonder do you wonder if I care about it enough?
'Cause I should but I don't, if I do then I won't
You got me all choked up, I need to get a better grip on this shit
I'm flipping this script
Straight up out the doctor's office
Percocets and rubber bands in my mumma's pockets
I got to stop it, you better stop it (ha!)
Somebody stop
I never took the time to see from your perspective
I never took the time to see from your perspective (your perspective...)
A lot's been going on since the last time I checked in
To tell the truth I see you called but I ain't get the message
Too busy making mistakes you tryna safe me from
But I learned my lesson and even though you weren't around
I never felt neglected
I spent so many years in the streets living young and reckless
I was so disconnected with you
I never thought it would later weigh me down
Because of how you were effected but to be honest
If it wasn't for you leaving me I wouldn't be who I am today, so thank you Tina
We been through so much together
I know you've always believed in me
Lately it feels like we been sewing up the seems
I'm still too far away, I only see you in my dreams
The night is getting low so rest your head and go to sleep
And know that when you wake up it is all just but a dream
And everything this bad
Isn't always what it seems and what it seems (ain't what it seems, yeah)
I got a plan, I gotta plan, a strategy
Adaby mad at me
'Cause I got a fatter salary
Actually you are, uh
Unaware of my pallet, my taste is on
Five star catalogue is a casualty and I
Marry the beat
Bury to be very unique, never discrete
Slick like Sperrys on feet, cherries on chic
Cheek blush, scary to meet
Take a photo with king Tut
Yeah compare me to kings, jewelry swings
I'm at the pool table. pinkie ring on the green felt
Black bubble leather around the waist, no green belt
Living of the liquor, still kick it, don't need help
I'm all the way up, Chevy window was partly the way up
And smoke bellowing out like a partyin' bus
Mardi gras in the cup
Pants tight, yeah and she want the Dick Van Dyke
Rubber bands tight on the grand slykes so my jam drop
Grands on the tan dye
I make her hit the sand and fly a damn kite the way I'm blowing money
Alabama tornados couldn't pick a put like you
If I wasn't here with my homies don't know what I'd do (ha!)
She gave me good attitude
No butterfly stitch but that lingerie's butterfly with cheap perfume
But a scotch kit says
And you're the type of bitch that drop a simp crazy, yeah
But that simply don't amaze me
I'm a 1980's baby raised on cocaine ladies
Mama trapped, I sit cold in the box Mercedes
Mama packed a pistol, I packed a M80
Back to the hotel room
Fire cracker boom, boom, boom
Sack of old mushrooms
Street sweeper on the bed like a old dust broom
Yeah old dust broom
Catepillar, mash head like a old cocoon
Ha (ah!)
Ha (ah!)
Ha (oh!)
Ha, ha, ha...
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