Funky Shit (Explicit)

Funky **** (Explicit) - Yelawolf/Travis Barker

Sitting in the back (Oh my god)

S-Sitting the back (f-f-f-funky sh*t)

Peanut 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 ill beat with Travis

atlas

Where should I go Put 'em in a cereal bowl

In Alabama then I holler out "Cheerio"

Look at that sh*t pull her on back like elastic

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 b**ch

Ooo got to have it

(boss) Send the wolf pick a thing

On a pekingese b**ch 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

well that'd be the day

Put you up sh*t creek

Paddle be 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

L A to Alabama from noon to noon

They saying (oh my god that's some funky sh*t)

(Oh my god that's some funky sh*t)

(Oh my god that's some funky sh*t)

Oh my god that's some funky sh*t

And I'm a Beastie Boy

Airwalks and a bowl cut

Skater when a skater wasn't cool

When it was just "so what F**k you dude"

Well f**k you too

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 f**kin' high tops

Rhythm like a clock I'm 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 private seat

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

F**k 'em all I'm right above 'em all

fall

Out with a motherf**ker 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 b**ch