Howdy

If DJ Frank White isn't on your mixtape, kill yo'self...

[Intro: Yelawolf]

Yeah!

On behalf of Alabama, I just wanna say

The Heart of Dixie is in this bitch

M16, DJ Frank White, my name is Yelawolf

Hello world, hello world, hello world!

[Verse 1: Yelawolf]

This morning I woke up feelin like, that I never had a fuckin’ dime

Like I didn’t wake up in the back of the bus that’s finally mine

Why, do I feel like I never had Marshall Mathers’ co-sign sometimes?

Like Radioactive failed, well maybe this time

I’m even not eased to believe that I could be one of the top 5

Maybe when I tell myself I’m one of the best, I’m just lyin’

When my Uncle Buddy calls and ask, I say

"I’m just fine, but I feel like I haven’t made it, Uncle, but I’m just tryin."

Or maybe, I’m just not used to having shit I never had

Never stood in the Winner's Ave

Never said, “I got dinner, dad.”

Shit, never even had the cash to pay my dad for gettin' her back

And Jim I love you, thank you, always remember that

And it feels like yesterday, literally like yesterday

When I couldn’t get one motherfucking fan to come and see me play

When I drove that minivan for the ends, without a license plate

To ATL, so I could play Will Power my demo-tape

Yeah, that’s writing on the wall that I can't erase

He’s a friend of mine that are in the line, and that I can’t replace

If I’m in the line, he’s in the line and we both get a play (church)

This ain’t no crew, it’s a family, so get it straight (church)

So Father you can tell God to part the clouds

And let your sun shine thru the minds of my target crowd

‘Cuz I know some of these people think I’m a certified artist now

But the butterfly’s still a bug, and I’m above where I started, now

Passionate like a political poet in an artist lounge

Hungry like a poor daddy with a gun and a starving child

If you thought it was a flake, then you just a departed clown

And if you thought I was coming hard, well you better think harder now!

[Verse 2: Yelawolf]

And it’s been a long motherfucking time

Since I felt this homesick as I do now

Yeah it’s been a long fucking time

And I just wanna say

Hey! How ya been? Roll Tide! Amen!

The Heart of Dixie’s in this bitch, yeah I’m Dixie rich

But if I don’t have y’all, I ain’t got shit

Gadsden, B-Ham, to the Gump

And all the small towns

Throw it up, it’s that Alabama sound

Much love and I never let you down

‘Cause I might as well be dropped

Back in Gadsden and cuttin’ grass

Or handcuffed on the side of the road, on my fuckin’ ass

Before I become complacent on any level that I’m at

Momma will quit drinking and Obama will smoke some crack

Lost, yeah I may have, my mind

But it takes a lunatic to pursue this shit

Ay that’s fine, because I paid the cost

Really more like a fine, but instead of paying for tickets now

They pay for tickets in line, to see me drain exhaust

The pain from the mic, from the strain it cost

Two-step in my shoes with a shameless walk

300 soldiers I brought, Wolf-Pack follow my lane and put chalk

Around suckers dying for change and talk

The New South’s got a new house

With a frame and a stump

Roots and limbs, the truth’s in him

Yeah I’m a grain of salt

Preachers yelling out, prophets around Wayne

I refrain, I’m a couch, I’m a chair, I’m a seat

A relief pitcher, or beer in the mouth

I’m a sofa to hold ya, just ride the beat homey, it’s over

Whatever rapper would ever say he’s a sober?

I must be smoking bath salt, ‘cuz I’m out of my mind!

I should have built roads for a livin', cuz I never run out of lines

The Heart of Dixie