LYRICS
It’s your boy Lil Jon, got my partner Yelawolf with me,
What’s up Yela, you know it’s time to crank the club up again.
Yea, you ain't gotta lay down your back to know you already ****ed up
Letting me in the mother****ing game is like letting me drunk drive in your truck.
When Yelawolf arrived in this club I already had 5 in my cup,
I done took another hit, I done ran into a b***h that’s looking lifeless and stuck,
Baby what’s wrong with you now, what you ain’t happy with red bottoms,
Mad cause I’m in VIP with a ****ing Jack bottle, with Tom, D**k, and Harry;
But I got up in this b***h with a tank top, cuz I spit so very.
Dumb quick and scary.
That’s why they so quick to compare me.
But **** the critics, with a spike ****, when it can fit barely.
They probably think I’m a limp biscuit that spits jelly.
But I put them in the woods, I’m a redneck. I’m a hick tell me, go ahead.
What the **** does it matter to me,
Cuz after me they'll only be wannabe’s, and mostly ain’t never gonna be’s.
Yea, in this forest I’m a lonely tree,
My limbs are covered in tattoos, and my roots they run deep I'm
Two bottle shawty, two b*****s waiting, two tens,
That’s a win, win situation
Happy Birthday, I’m feeling brand new
Drinks on me, for me not you.
Up in the club, don’t give a ****, up in the club, don’t give a ****,
Up in the club, don’t give a ****, up in the club still don’t give a ****.
I don’t know what to say after that first verse,
I mean like damn I just killed it
What the **** am I supposed to do with this cow
I done already milked it.
Smoke another cigarette unfiltered, let go of anything that I’m feeling.
They done broke me down so many times before that I’m no longer rapping
I’m building with one brick, two brick, three brick, four.
Underneath the steps of my singlewide door.
Raised by them **** boys so I know how them thangs look,
Thanks for the recipe, rest in peace Wayne Bush.
I don’t cut my shit. I don’t break it down
For you mother****ers out there waiting around for some rap savior,
You better look up at what it is that you’re facing now,
Cuz Jesus drives a Harley, the devil wears Prada,
If God was one of us, he’d probably drink Vodka.
I still kick at the party when I get rich,
Cuz rich or broke, I’m still as ****.
The realist ain’t as real as this.
Dead or alive I put a stamp in this b***h,
You’ll never see rock n’ roll do hip hop like I did I’m
Two bottle shawty, two b*****s waiting, two tens
That’s a win, win situation.
Happy birthday, I’m feeling brand new,
Drinks on me, for me, not you.
Up in the club, don’t give a ****, up in the club, don’t give a ****,
Up in the club, don’t give a ****, up in the club still don’t give a ****.
Yeah, yeah we don’t give a ****.
It’s Ghet-O-Vision, Shady
Still don’t give a ****, naw your boy Lil Jon, we rep the south!
Happy Birthday, Alabama!
Up in the club, don’t give a ****!
Up in the club still don’t give a ****!
I ain’t in the building I own the building b***h!