Travis Barker, Yelawolf - Funky Shit

Sitting in the back Oh my god
S Sitting the back f f f funky shit
Peanut butter jelly box sitting in the carport
808 crack and I'm open like a barndoor
Beer bottle cap put 'em in the floor
Set 'em in the floor what a metaphor is this
Kind of like I do a beat with Travis
Eat it up beat it up work at the atlas
Where should I go Put 'em in a cereal bowl
In Alabama then I holler out Cheerio
Look at that shit pull the gun back like elastic
And let it go like a mac clip
S Sipping on the green bottle like I'm saint Patrick
Got beans in the mattress magic
Make you want to jump on a fat bitch
Ooo got to have it
boss Yelawolf pick a thing
On a pekingese bitch go go gadget
Owh I'm all the way from the gutter
Flick a cigarette butt from a Chevrolet pickup
Geeked up on 7 Up
Gotta turn the beat up while I run up on it like a cheetah
Wanna ride a beat right above that’ll be the day
Put you up shit creek paddle it away
Hat to the side
Holler at you homie
What's the matter with you babe
Sitting in the back with the bass on boom
Trunk gon' shake and the wheels on zoom
American classic trashy tunes
LA to Alabama from noon to noon
They saying oh my god that's some funky shit
Oh my god that's some funky shit
Oh my god that's some funky shit
Oh my god that's some funky shit
And I'm a Beastie Boy
Airwalks and a bowl cut
Skater when a skater wasn't cool
When it was just so what Fuck you dude
Well fuck you too
Get your melon cracked with a backpack
I'll bust your fruit
I'm all about constructing my paper
Kind of like a pocket full of Elmer's Glue
Squeeze the bottle turn the milk
Churn the butter get the cheese tomorrow
I got a lock on my profit
No exits no keys tomorrow
But I got steeze to borrow
Some Famous kicks to match
If I got a bass line I'll rap
As long as TB got sticks to crack
So hit a drumroll I'll jump in like a jump rope
Watch
Acapella like an elevator operate the fader while
I operate a label then I’m in my fuckin' high tops
Rhythm like a clock hop scotch
You would've thought it was written
But it's not
Rag hanging out the back of them jeans
Not a gangbanger but a cracker who sings
And momma don't you worry about a single thing
Really though cause daddy brought charcoal and gasoline
And we cooking up tonight t bones pinto beans
Yeah why stop now
Put 'em in the trunk
Let 'em feel the sound
That they don't pop it
Let 'em feel the rhyme till he finds the locket
808 weighs a ton so drop it
Watch your feet while I rock the beat
Going all out no privacy
I don't walk if I can ride the beat
But wouldn't you though Don't lie to me
Of course you would catapult syllables
Got up on my horse in the woods whoa
Magical sorcerer goods
Steal from the rich put more in the hood
Natural born with a wood
Fuck 'em all I'm right above 'em all
But you could butt talk if a fall
Outrun with a motherfucker with a sluggish crawl
Chug till I can't chug at all
Not a frat boy I'm a rap boy
In Hollywood like Aykroyd
But I read my script with a southern drawl
I run home when mother calls
Cause mother's got a switch
Yeah she's a wolf too
That makes me a son of a bitch