ft eminem gangsta boo yelawolf - throw it up (ft. eminem & gangsta boo) - yelawolf lyrics
aye boo get these motherf-ckers
and p-ss that jack
i see you b-tches talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ sh-t
get the f-ck from round’ here, you don’t rep my sh-t
you ain’t from my city, you don’t know about this
you don’t want that drama, you ain’t ready for it, b-tch!
now throw it up! (yeah ho) throw it up!
throw it up! (yeah ho) you ain’t ready for it b-tch
throw it up!(yeah ho) throw it up! throw it up!
you ain’t ready for it b-tch
i already got, 2 cars in the yard that don’t run
so why would i wanna break sh-t down for you?
better me confuse with the punchlines and bars that i launch
here the king of archery come, with a cracker d-ck
to f-ck you in that p-ssy carpet you munch
if i’m not hardly the one, you must be barely the one billionth
really you kiddin’, b-tch i’m the prodigal son
and i’m stuntin’ like my daddy, d-dr-d-drinkin’ like my mama
c-c-country like my uncles, stutterin’ like a cd in a donk
b-mp, b-mp, b-mp, b-mp
and i’m in a blue chevy,runnin’ over motherf-ckers in first
i ain’t even shift gears yet, i ain’t even here yet, i’m outta this earth
right? (yeah ho!) but i just hit the surface
and i’m ’bout to walk into a bank with a shank and a black can of paint to check the clerk
(where the keys?) b-tch you better take your purse! i got a brick of herb
and a hit to serve, and i’m feeling like i might just hit the curb
so get the f-ck outta my way buddy you don’t wanna’ run around the chicken house with a heart of a puppy dog
yelawolf and eminem, sh-t
sufferin’ succotash, yeah suck a d-ck, b-tch
i see you b-tches talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ sh-t
get the f-ck from round’ here, you don’t rep my sh-t
you ain’t from my city, you don’t know about this
you don’t want that drama, you ain’t ready for it, b-tch!
now throw it up! (yeah ho) throw it up!
throw it up! (yeah ho) you ain’t ready for it b-tch
throw it up!(yeah ho) throw it up! throw it up!
you ain’t ready for it b-tch
b-tch please you don’t wanna step up to this misses
g-a-n-g-s-t-a will make a n-gg- hit his knees when
i’m up in the buildin’, preach it to my children
i don’t be takin’ no sh-t from you haters
you’ll make me hurt one of your feelings
(hahahaha), nah nah ni nah nah
pick your face up off the floor, i got you feelin’ sad now
you be on that hokiewag, hokiewag is bullsh-t
run into this gangsta, have your preacher at pull pit
b-tch, i was born on the mississippi river
take no sh-t from a b-tch or a n-gg-
so so crazy gotta f-cked up temper
bi-pola’, not nicki i’m worser, i’ll hurt ya
haha, i got a crazy -ss mind game
ma n-gg-, im a lion, untamed
hunt ya -ss down in my jungle, i do this
i tell them hoes, “you ain’t ready for it b-tch!”
i see you b-tches talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ sh-t
get the f-ck from round’ here, you don’t rep my sh-t
you ain’t from my city, you don’t know about this
you don’t want that drama, you ain’t ready for it, b-tch!
now throw it up! (yeah ho) throw it up!
throw it up! (yeah ho) you ain’t ready for it b-tch
throw it up!(yeah ho) throw it up! throw it up!
you ain’t ready for it b-tch
me and yelawolf, tear the roof
off this motherf-cker, you ain’t got the umph
you’re a hoof, to the foot of an elephant
h-llo, toots, you look so eloquent, that’s what i tell a c-nt
come sit up front cause you’re kickin’ my seat
and i’m tryin’ to the tell the cashier what i want!
they say i act like an -sshole, when i pull up at the white castle
and i ask for an appli-cation, throw it back in her face an’
tell the b-tch i’m a rapper, then i wack her
in the head with a whopper
that i bought from bk, you expect me to be proper?
b-tch you better pop in a cd of me immediately, sl-t, ho, skidda dee da da
prada? not a chance, i was thinkin’ about buyin’ you some clothes
but target was closed so i decided to mosey on over to k-mart, but the doors
was locked, what about some shoes i thought, great i suppose
so i go to payless but what’dya know, they didn’t carry a size 8 in hoes!
oh! this is ugly boy swag, puttin’ toe tags on you motherf-ckin’ ho bags
what a trailer trash pioneer, i am here, that’s why i’m here
i don’t got a rhyme book it’s more like a motherf-ckin’ diary of diarrhea!
me, yelawolf and gangsta boo came here to show you a thing or two
’bout sign language, middle fingers aimed at you
so we don’t gotta scream at you!
ow! i just bit my bottom lip, it was an accident
i went to go tell ’em all to go get f-cked
but i’m never gonna bite my tongue, little b-tch, throw it up
i see you b-tches talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ sh-t
get the f-ck from round’ here, you don’t rep my sh-t
you ain’t from my city, you don’t know about this
you don’t want that drama, you ain’t ready for it, b-tch!
now throw it up! (yeah ho) throw it up!
throw it up! (yeah ho) you ain’t ready for it b-tch
throw it up!(yeah ho) throw it up! throw it up!
you ain’t ready for it b-tch
what the f-ck is this?
white dog…
yo
yo, what up?
what up?
uh, you do that verse?
yeah, i just killed that sh-t
what?
nah, nuthin’
um yo, you know what i was thinkin’ man?
i think the one thing that uh.. that the alb-m don’t have
that might be missing
is like uh.. a song for like, for girls
uh, what do you mean? for like b-tches?
nah, girls. like a lovesong
no?!
we need one!
like…lovesong-lovesong?
yeah man, b-tches like love songs!
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