[Verse 1: Yelawolf]
Yeah, I crawl through beats, like I had paws for feet
That's why they call them tracks
I dial into my tone, that's why these b**h rappers never call me back
But I didn't hang up on you, I just hung you out to dry
Clothes line! Little babies, go to school, don't pout cry
So sick that I make sick sick
Stick dick in a b**h with slit wrist
Just to get a quick fix, sip syrup - sip fix
Hurry get a twit pic, I'm on! (Yeah, I'm on)
And you gon' smell my cologne (I'm on)
Some Issey Miyake or some Bond No. 9 (Yeah, I'm on)
Yeah
[Hook: Big HUD]
Far from a b**h and I put that on my main ho
Catch me posted on the block like I'm a valero
Put that dagger in your heart like a bow and arrow
Somebody had to lose, I guess that's how to game go (YEAH)
The game go, I guess that's how the game go
I'm Far from a b**h and I put that on my main ho (YEAH)
My main ho, I put that on my main ho
I'm far from a b**h and I put that on my main ho
[Verse 2: Rittz]
She know that I'm a pro and I don't even got to tell her
White b**h looking like Sarah Michelle Gellar
Got her tipsy on vanilla
Ghetto one she say she wanna get to know me better
I said it, I could read her mind, she like an open letter
Next thing you know I had her face against a feather pillow
In a cheap hotel yelling at her while I drill her
Like a jack hammer, almost flacked in her
Tap-tap-tapping that a** like a tap dancer
Then I skeeted, told that b**h to leave or imma' back-hand her
I'm just playing baby, I don't really act in that manner
Cause' my game so suave, I ain't scared of taking all the ladies
Especially when she give a great bl**job
We can go to dinner, Stoney River steak, go park
Martini bar, swear it ain't no prob
Now just keep your mouth shut 'bout us
Now hush, You don't wanna piss my main ho off
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Young Stuggle]
I ain't a a k**er but don't push me
My moneyrun long like John Holmes in the p**y
Married to these streets, I got a c**aine wife
They say the folk ain't right leave my momma alone and blame my life
If Kenny Powers f**ed Griselda Blanco I'd be they son
With a hundred grand, steel claiming kids that ain't mine to get that tax refund
Ten food stamp cards in my pocket, sh**, none of 'em mine
Slumerican pie, subliminal crimnal crimes ahead of my time
[Hook]