F.A.S.T. Ride lyrics

[Intro]

(You know my Uncle Critter said

"You look like you been shot at and missed

Shit at and hit"

[Hook]

On that ass, bitch

Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Yeah, and I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Yeah, on that ass, bitch

And I be bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Trunk Muzik, bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

[Verse 1]

Mello Yello can in my hand,

Mullet hawk, what?

Country folks don’t talk much

They just get to work : sawdust

Chainsaw, axe, knife, cut firewood, burn, logs, heat

Sleepin’ bag by the bricks: call me the fly, I’m on some shit

Drum this out with two sticks

Supa hot’s too cool for new kicks

Zoom, raps make mummies jealous from a tomb

Knock twice if you feel it

Born to rip, I should’ve been

Perforated by the rings like a Mead notebook

Squares want an artery blocked when I’m around

Circulated, nerds are in, Urkel made it

I’ll slap Urkel, take his lunch money

Punks they run from me, drunk and upset

But I don’t run clumsy, punch a perp’

A one, two, three: I’m at the Chelsea Hotel

Like Sid & Nancy with the knife, and two grams of candy

Give me the dizzies, fee, fee, fuck me

Please oh please don’t leave

Just give me the keys and crank that beat

‘Cause I might double up and straight dry heave

But believe, oh believe I’m cold, I’mma freeze this beat

Like Freon, frickin’ neon, that’s me glowing in a snowstorm

Look here, we in these streets like a pair of Nikes

Well, I might be more like a pair of nice jeans, cause I’m…

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

So what’s new?

Been on that shit, where’s the atlas?

Thumbtack it, South Cackalack it, Alabama has it, go

Relax in a 1985 box train, perhaps I’m playin’ Relapse

Boss, Eminem saw the gem in him

Oh, me? Yeah, who thought?

Just toss the white trash out the window

Now I’m in a ditch like broken pencils

Empty bottles and stolen rentals

This one is for all my kinfolk

Yeah, bring ‘em in, though

Out the rain, what’s a friend for?

Word, oh for sure, yours truly, at the door

Had to add a syllable to that word

Country, but, oh, of course

Bitches go berserk for certainly, no need to be coerced

Odd economy, don’t need no nine-nine-nine-nine-nine and I know

Just the na, na, na, na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye, and hey, let’s roll

These hoes are no good, pills are okay

I just wanna get high, fuck what you say

Wild, the pen-play kind of like a samurai sword

With a Bic bitch, bow to sensei

Motherfuckin’ bitch, it’s pay your rent day

Do I not look like my name was MJ

One glove and a fuckin’ pair of penny loafers

And I moonwalk on the tempo like Billy Jean is not my friend, no

[Hook]

[Outro]

Yeah… yeah…

Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, bitch

Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

On that ass, ho

Bumpin’ this funky-ass shit to ride to

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go

Let’s go, let’s go

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

I’m on my shit now…

I’m on my shit now…

I’m on my shit now…

I’m on my…

Yeah, I’m on my shit now…

I’m on my shit now…

Let’s go!

Yeah, Lunch break

Don’t worry for the day

I’m bout to get slung under

Slung under..

Slumerican

Supa-supa-SupaHot Beats

Catfish really though”

• Artist:Yelawolf
• Album:Trunk Muzik Returns