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your favorite martian - shitty g lyrics

i’m a raper, i’m a rebel.
two middle fingers in the air.
i’m a wanna be, yeah a sh-tty g!
but i don’t really care.

ain’t n-body quite like me.
‘cuz my name is sh-tty g.
ain’t n-body quite like me.
sh-tty – sh-tty – g – g.

let me tell you about my main man sh-tty g.
he never lived in the city.
he’s from the middle of tennessee.
he’s got a wife she’s morbidly obese.
while sh-tty sits at danny’s sipping 40’s of ol’e.
no toilet in his trailer, he’ll p-ss on the street.
sh-tty g would bite your style,
but he’s missing some teeth.
rockin’ white beaters with pit stains.
sh-tty’s so humble,
“yo, i’m the sh-t, man”

king of the trailer park, thinks he’s hard as nails.
front yard lookin’ like a junk yard sale.
rolling round on a riding mower, mouth full of chew.
sipping on jack daniels mixed with mountain dew.
always running from the cops getting charged with theft.
they want him behind bars but he’s hard to catch.
always hustling something, his hands are never clean.
plus, he’s got the worst tattoos….that you’ve ever seen.

i’m a raper, i’m a rebel.
two middle fingers in the air.
i’m a wanna be, yeah a sh-tty g!
but i don’t really care.

catch his drinking cans of busch light, smoking new ports, b-mping toby keith and too short
he grows his own reefer, steals cables from his neighbors.
you can always smell the vapors from the meth lab in his trailer.
he thinks he’s bad just like his credit.
he’s got a sugar mama, but sh-tty is diabetic.
he’s got a poster of federline, his hero.
he’ll drink a box of wine and say, “what up my negro?!”

i’m a raper, i’m a rebel.
two middle fingers in the air.
i’m a wanna be, yeah a sh-tty g!
but i don’t really care.

ain’t n-body quite like me.
‘cuz my name is sh-tty g.
ain’t n-body quite like me.
sh-tty – sh-tty – g – g.

alright man here i go.
ya’ll ain’t never heard rhymes like these.
i’m about to spit more fire than illegal chinese fireworks.
alright here we go.
why you missing with me?
i’m freaking awesome.
i got so many hoes but i can’t exactly call them.
‘cuz i didn’t pay my phone bill.
instead i bought some reefer.
when my alb-m drops you h-m-s will be believers.
and i will build a studio when i get my settlement from an ol’car wreck,
and i’m going to buy a confederate flag for my bedroom.
that sh-t is stupid cool.
and ya’ll laugh when i graduated from computer school.
i’m freaking embarr-ssing when i tell my mexican friends they need to speak american.
i got speakers for my beats.
they’re in my car propped up against my baby seat.
and i’m gonna make it crack this year.
drinking 30 packs working on my rap career.
you laugh, but this ain’t no joke.
i’m out here repping on the streets for all the country folks.

i’m a raper, i’m a rebel.
two middle fingers in the air.
i’m a wanna be, yeah a sh-tty g!
but i don’t really care.

ain’t n-body quite like me.
‘cuz my name is sh-tty g.
ain’t n-body quite like me.
sh-tty – sh-tty – g – g.

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