Out My Face

[Intro]

Man who the fuck is that?

That bitch looks terrible

Look at.. what the fuck is..

That bitch looks horrible

Get that bitch off my television

Shawty Fatt! No

Shawty Fatt! No

Shawty Fatt! No

Change the fucking channel

Rittz you like that shit don't you?

Ugly ass bitch (Let's go)

[Verse 1: Shawty Fatt]

Yeah, sit it down cause I came to get wicked (wicked)

On the mile like a paunch and no PicTune

1 hundred rounds, 1 hundred miles, 1 hundred towns

I'm only running like I'm a run-away

This bitch needs to do what the quarter say

Under the, under the niggas I'm speeding

I'mma say I am the reason they leaving

They leaking, they get up sleeping

Through dirty deacon

Why don't you preach them the gospel?

Pull through your face like a cocktail

Yeah, bad let me get an ad-lib

Or fucking die, see you bitch

Like I'm pause here, yeah

D-O-G-B-E double L, why try?

They all may see when I'm riding round town

Like Saha shooting out Wi-Fi

Bitch took a DRE

They don't led to see ID

Cause they who the hell I be

Simple song, no co-sign's nigga

Bet your [?] my bowtie, nigga!

[Hook: X2]

Get that ugly bitch out my face

Get that, get that ugly bitch

Out my, out my face, face

Get, get that bitch, bitch

Get that bitch out my face

All these, all these bitches drinking

Ain't nobody gettin' paid

[Verse 2: Rittz]

Yelawolf sent me here

So many bubble gum rappers out

Now the rap game like candy land

These motherfuckers can't stand the wind

You see 'em swingin'

Why the fuck you think

I'm flickin' off the camera man

Couple years ago ain't nobody handled it

But I was broke as shit

Struggling with a sandy Benz

Yea, fuck yea talking 'bout drugs

Shit I write the type of shit

That make a middle class fan be friend

Slumerican the family grand

You're in a fan, they scram

These dudes waiting on some candy games

I'm on some R&B shit and buy nothin'

This hammer team Wrenckin' you so called manly man

Cause this slum alumni

And you don't really wanna fuck by

Why must I, step on every record chopper

Like a piece [?] when doves cry

So suck my dick

All you bitches gettin' fucked because I

[Hook: X2]

[Verse 3: Yelawolf]

Empty can of gas

Well a little bit leff at the bottom

Just enough to hope that it gonna get light

The trailer park is wobblin'

Trash bag full of freon in my system

You think Tyler's a goblin

If that Future's Odd

My past is odder like I worked the lachine

Stick's and trash to build a dam

To leave the gutters clockin'

Inflood the street's with mother's grease

And all this butter poppin'

Yeah I might have had a chance to be mechanic

What's my other option?

But I'm crackin' the bottom of a complex

With papa's southern rock

So go get Janis Joplin

Dig her up from her grave and then indulge it

Drinking Jack is not like Courvoisier, and

Chris Styles was when he first came

To the rap video waves

And PBR's and dime bars

Is a trim for this idiot age (fuck that)

[Hook: X2]