Throitup

Aye Boo, get these mother******s

And pass that jack

I see you ******* talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ ***t

Get the **** from ‘round here, you don’t rep my ***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 *****!

Now throw it up! (Yeah ho) Throw it up!

Throw it up! (Yeah ho) You ain’t ready for it *****

Throw it up! (Yeah ho) Throw it up! Throw it up!

You ain’t ready for it *****

I already got 2 cars in a yard that don’t run

So why would I wanna break shit down for you

Better be confused with the punch lines and bars that I lunch

Here the king if archery come

With a cracker **** to **** you and that ***** carpet you munch

If I’m not hardly the one

You must be barely the one

Billy if really you’re kiddin’

***** I’m the prodigal son

And I’m stuntin’ like my daddy

Dr-dr-drinkin’ like my mama

Co-co-country like my uncle

Stuttering like a CD in a dunk

P-p-p-punk

And I’m in a blue Chevy runnin’ over mother******s in first

I ain’t even ***ft gears yet,

I ain’t even here yet I’m outta this earth, right ,yeah hoe

But I just hit the surface and I’m about to walk into a bank,

Wit’ a shank and a black can of paint and check the clerk: where the keys?

***** you better check your purse, I got a brick of herb,

And I hit the syrup and I’m feeling like I might just hit the curb

So get the **** outta my way buddy

You don’t wanna walk around the chicken house with a hawk little puppy dog

I see you ******* talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ ***t

Get the **** from round’ here, you don’t rep my ***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 *****!

Now throw it up! Yeah hoe!Throw it up!

Throw it up! Yeah hoe! You ain’t ready for it *****

Throw it up! Yeah hoe! Throw it up! Throw it up!

You ain’t ready for it *****

***** please, you don’t want to step up to this Mrs.

G-A-N-G-S-T-A Boo make a ***** hit his knees

I’m up in the building

Preaching to my children

I don’t be taking no shit from you haters

You’ll make me hurt one of your feelings

Naa, naa, ne, naa, naa

Pick your face up off the floor

I got you feeling sad naa

You be on that hokeewag

Hokeewag is bullshit

Run into this gangsta have your preacher at the pulpit, *****!

I was born on the Mississippi River

Take no ***t from a ***** or a *****

So, so crazy got a ****** up temper

Bipolar, not Nikki, I’m worser, I’ll hurt you

I gotta crazy ass mind game

My nigga, I’m a lion untamed

Hunt your ass down in my jungle

I do this, I tell them hoes

You ain’t ready for it *****!

I see you ******* talkin’ loud, but you ain’t sayin’ ***t

Get the **** from round’ here, you don’t rep my ***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 *****!

Now throw it up! Yeah hoe!Throw it up!

Throw it up! Yeah hoe! You ain’t ready for it *****

Throw it up! Yeah hoe! Throw it up! Throw it up!

You ain’t ready for it *****

I see you ******* takin’ loud

But you don’t want that ***t

Me and Yelawolf tear the roof of this mother******

You ain’t got the oomph you’re a hoof to the foot of an elephant

Hello toots you look so eloquent that’s what I tell a ****

Come sit up front cause you’re kickin’ my seat

And I’m tryin’ to the tell the ca***er what I want!

They say I act like an asshole, when I pull up at the White Castle

And I ask for an appli-cation, throw it back in their face and

Tell the ***** I’m a rapper, then I wrap her

In the head with a Whopper that I bought from BK

You expect me to be proper?

***** you better pop in a CD of me immediately, slut hoe

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’do you know?

They didn’t carry a size 8 in hoes!

Oh! This is ugly boy swag, puttin’ toe tags on you mother******’ ho bags

What a trailer trash pioneer, I am yeah, that’s why I’m here

I don’t got a rhyme book it’s more like a mother******’ diary that diarrhea

Me, Yelawolf and Gangsta Boo came here to show you a thing or two

About 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 them all to go get ******

But I’m never gonna bite my tongue, little ***** throw it up

I see you ******* takin’ loud

But you don’t want that ***t