Yelawolf - Hard lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: Yelawolf] Roll down the window in the chevy and I listen to the critics but they really Wasn't saying sh** Buddy, I'm a gutter motherf**er from an Alabama creek, you don't know Who you're playin' with, They talk so much that I bet one of these pebbles under me get Laryngitis the wave is so contagious, so who gave it? Apparently I did Put fish in the back of my boat, I'm a fisherman, I'm a reel 'em in, mackerel I'm a give 'em ten minutes,Then put 'em back in the water there, just to see 'em all float And kinda like mixtapes in the back on my trunk, buddy, yeah, I got 'em all sold In Alabama with an arm and hammer, swimmin' in propaganda, I got 'em all, whoa Promenade, country boy, get out of my way, gallon of sweet tea, a packet of lemonade Smackin' a f*ggot, I crack a bat on the pen and page, no h*mo, anyway Any stage, rip it any Way the independent way, look, have you seen his Js? Footwork, send em' in a rage, feelin' like a millionaire on minimum wage don't need a Mercedes To take your girl, my Chevy is sick, Earl I let her play with my mullet, while she sip syrup Hold up, Alabama funk make you lose your teeth like a Mountain Dew soda Some saltines wanna live in the box, but guess what? I'm the cracker who showed up [Hook: Eminem] x2 Cause sometimes I feel like its so hard For me to come up with sh** to say. Aay! I'm at a loss for words cause ya'll already said it all I think I'm runnin' out of cliches I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche! [Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa] Left the crib with 10 grand bought a hundred pair I'm the coach I can show you how to be a player 5 faces said the fitted b**hes love my hair Camo shorts go with anything I wanna wear They let me in the club f** the dress code Me and all my n***as rollin' up the best smoke OG kush from the west coast Oh you down to f**? well shorty lets go Diamonds in my chain n***as tryna steal my lane Chronic in my brain b**h I'm reppin' Taylor gang Smoke till I'm insane drinkin' till I'm throwin' up Only papers if you Taylor'd n***a throw it up High socks low cuts smell that good weed then you know its us That yellow car pullin up them n***as ain't hot so they ain't close to us Down to fly get two fingers and throw em' up [Chrous: Eminem] x2 Cause sometimes I feel like its so hard For me to come up with sh** to say. Aay! I'm at a loss for words cause ya'll already said it all I think I'm runnin' out of cliches I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche! I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche! I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche! I'm gettin' writer's block. Psyche!