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The Catch feat. DJ Muggs
Yelawolf
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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Yeah, y'all should've known what I was about when I was throwing them fishing lures up on the stage
Birmingham, Alabama
I was about that catch, haha
That catch
Yeah, grinding
Here we go, uh
Look
I should change my name to Bootsy Collins
'Cause if I show up in these boots, she calling, huh
Change my name back to Phil Collins
After my cut, I don't feel like calling
I had to change her name to Post Malone
She said, "At least tag me in the post, I'm alone"
Give her ten bands, drop the office, Neiman Marcus
I hit the bullseye, end of the day she leaving Target
Upgrader, upgrader, going up a grade, I skipped 12th grade
I graduated from the good or ya-yo
Can't quit smiling, that's my biggest demon on an island
We can't be together, at least I left for my wallet
Put the blood soaker shirts in a black trash bag
Mob shit, leave 'em carbon copy die-cast
Frozen waiting, waiting for my shit is motivating
Got 'em running in circles, inpatient, roller skating
Roller rink, I'm hustling bacon sodas in the sink
Used to make the runs when that Motorola blinked
When that Motorola blinked, I was 13, P's in the Jansport
No bus pass, no transport
Innocent little skateboarder
If they only knew, the boy was taking orders
Yeah, taking orders but not giving any
I knew too much, way too wrong, way too nowhere plenty
They was picking eenie meenie minie moe
When I was giving dime bags of coke to my babysitter, hear me
Not a god-damn fool, baby
Maybe foolish, snatching hood on the mid's off of that Mercedes
But I rocked it
I Beastie Boy rocked it
I took the Public Enemy flavor seriously
I clocked it, left that plastic clock swinging from my noggin'
Champion sweat suits, no jogging
รlysรฉe, skits for PJs, Gomo on the VCR
Kids on replay, I'm talking 'bout the nations that struggle around nations
Old east Nashville cooker boss, Alex King project
Brick home, Carter Lawrence blazing
Junkies on the playground, 808's quaking
Raw bass, you know?
MTX terminator bass, yeah
14 inch reverse gold, the spinning
14 in a hearse, gold teeth grinning
14 in a skirt, no, she didn't
14 in the hallway getting domed sending
That ain't cool, but it's Kool-Aid though
Mixed with that vodka, that's "You ain't know"
That ain't easy, but it's true, ayy-yo
Reach in my starter jacket that open AIDS gold
That last row smell like I just smoked
Because I just smoked, because I just go
Never look back, never had too much control
But at least now when I look back I can write the shit I wrote
Run these lines like a telephone pole
So run a line up in those, and go get shit before you go
If I had a dollar for every I that rolled
The whole world would be dizzy
I'd be worth a milli', so
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