Rack City Lyrics - Singles - Yelawolf

Yeah! Sourmilk, JustIncredible 

L.A. Leakers 

(Buzzin' on the beat ho!) 

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Alabama rich, I'm alabama rich 

Shady records 

Ghetto Vision, hello kids I'm in, this bitch with hits 

Big camera and, fuck around I leave your momma with a candle lit 

Speaking of candles lit, happy birthday me 

Radioactive is a magnet for birthday treats 

New house, fresh shoes 

It's like all my opponents saw me and said let's lose 

Good move! 

Is it me? or the fake "let's choose" 

Cause' I'm teaching the class, you mothafuckas slept through 

So even the haters only instigating my students 

But a couple of questions that I won't say yes too 

Like Mr dobalina Mr bob dobalina can I sick em for ya Bob? 

Can I pick ya chrome nina up, and pick off for ya from afar with the beamer? 

Cause I seen him, he's a fault, he's a real cob cleaner 

I shoulda been loose but I refuse to be an o-bama-nator 

You hate on me and you probably an o-bama-hater 

Laugh at you chronic players, sit with a sonic laser, and shoot you from Pluto with a soup bowl full of now-and-laters 

Niggas can still see in the shot, cause I'm a power fader 

Shower these cowards without a doubt of my power 

And take ya bitch without a shower til I'm sour til hours later, she still come back lying about the one that her momma gave her. (ugh!) 

Everybody knows I'm a loose cannon, with a wick the size of a fuckin toothpick, better back up quick and assume the damage 

What I gave this beat is like a treat for a chief example 

That I got a way with tracks, a Chinese weave scandal 

Back away from the bicycle, tricyles fit you better 

Pick another cypher, better yet pick up rifle, and do ya self a favor 

And kill ya self midget hoe! 

And do it next to a river so nobody gotta dig a hole. 

Photos