Bowties Lyrics - Yelawolf

I'm in the black chevrolet with no tags 

Got doors on this bitch like a school bus 

Hop on in motherfucker 

Take you for a ride with a loaded ruger 

So cold that I might need a coat rag 

Look bitch you only need two puffs 

That's crystal meth Catfish Billy smokin' hoopla 

All around the south I blow cash 

That ain't leather that's nubuck 

You ain't really ballin' ruthless 

You ain't rollin' up on a new truck 

I'm all about the Glock fuck no jag 

I got this bitch on four's like two plus 

Two and this bitch is lubed up 

Treat MC's like a new slut 

Yeah bitch I'm outtie 

Five go tell yo' pap' that his boy's said howdy 

You want to make it rain but would I, I doubt it 

These hoes are bad weather, always cloudy 

I'm a kill these bitches dig these ditches and 

Rocks up out this chevy trunk before you dead and lost 

Cause we peelin' off in that red Bugatti with bowties 

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(Oh, oh!) just me and that chevrolet (Bowties) 

(Oh, oh!) with a motherfuckin' attitude (Bowties) 

(Oh, oh!) you don't want to see that pistol wave (Bowties) 

(Oh!) Me and that box running up clean and smooth (Bowties) 

All black Chevy I'm a take it to the car show 

Shouldn't drink and drive but I got some chronic at my condo 

Blonde ho, with me 'bout to fuck no time for convo' 

Want it because I let her hit the chronic and the blanco 

Long stroke, I'm a swing the wheel like a golf pro 

Hit it from the back she look behind and saw my charm glow 

I took a picture of her pussy for affective feeling 

So she got the steppin' like she love me through the mind boat 

Back inside my seat my speakers beatin' like a bongo 

Bumpin' Box Chevy me and 'Wolf a perfect combo 

Anyone want it with us can get it they beggin' for attention 

Like Miley Cyrus when she twerking let her tongue show, dumb though 

Why you blaming us when you done gone broke 

Rap's killing shit like Matt Dillon did in Gunsmoke 

I'm just fired up while you gettin' dried up like a ancho 

Chilling but really still feelin' like I'm on my grind though 

So I'm creepin' like a rhino, coming off the instagram 

Northside Atlanta and I got it, want to get a gram 

Servin' out my window like a burger want a drink, it's ten 

Use a better pad now they fucked it up and let me in 

Leather interior until they get another print 

Of my shoes, hit the runway inside my Chevy then 

Hit the gas till the moon we will never land 

Ain't nobody fuckin' with Slumerican put that on my Chevy 

Photos 

Walk to the mall like fuck you 

Give me that Mickey D Super Sized 

Got a fresh pair of J's like two new crack heads 

Shoelaces like spud loose, bounce on it 

Coffee table full of shake and they breakin' up an ounce on it 

Tweakers on the hip gettin' high as a brimstone 

Thrown on the tip of a ball handle the symphone 

Lean some of them lean on the wall and limp home 

Steam mellowin' out of a Chevy Enzo 

I put the house on it 

Have a seat bitch put the couch on it 

Take a sigh bitch I put the south on it 

Take a ride on the one I-89 

You talkin' shit I might put the crowd on it 

It would be another Yelawolf hate ground 

Butter on the seats like country crop 

But I fuckin' ain't no country crop 

Puts fear in the heart of a country cop 

Everytime that I get fuckin' stopped 

Boy those some nice wheels but you better turn the music down 

Cause it ain't the big city 

Ran off the law with nothin' but a ticket 

From a fuckin' hick with a stick and midget dealin' with midget and bowtie