Whiskey In A Bottle

Verse 1: 

Yeah…
Still on that ass like handcuffs, up in ya like hand puppets
Make a mute holla, you should’ve jumped in that impala homie 
Refrigerators never seen ice baby, not vanilla
Not a breeze on the hill will make a flame grab a chinchilla
Quite like the words I built up to fuck guppies
I see food and I hush puppies
So give me that king crab and I’ll break his shell, you seen that?
Well fuck em if he didn’t take it well
So crack the top off  that hot shakin ale
And say free young struggle who’s not makin bail!
He got popped by the feds, fuck the cops take an “L”
Fuck it, take M, N, O, P... Learn how to spell
I’ll pull up to the gate and will skate on these country faggots
And until then… Fuck em they can  have it 
Slumerican means Slum American breed
Gutter raised with worldwide dreams yeah

Chorus:
Put your hands to the sky, I’m a bullet
In the barrel with a hair pin trigger now 
Yeah I’m a let it slide, I’m a head case
Train wreck avalanche comin down
Put your hands to the sky, I’m a ready made party
I’m whiskey in a bottle now 
La la la la la la la Laaaaaaaa
I’m whiskey in a bottle now

Verse 2:
Still on that gas like the bottom of my signature shoe, BAMA red
I’m on that ass Alabama did LSU goose egg oh lord
Bible belt raised in your mouth like a cold sore
Roll Fords? Na roll Tide and roll Chevy’s
My momma rolls joints, smoke rolls off of the tip
Daddies rollin a stone, I’m rollin in shit with these pigs
In the southside, who you rollin with in the sticks?
With hair weaves and air streams
Cigarette stained walls, fuck, I can barely breathe
Spittin shot gun pellets out of my fuckin chili bowl
But am I a hill billy? No
I’m the truth behind these fuckin illusionists yelling red neck
You about as red as the color blue is
And I’m not a red neck, I just tattooed it
Because of the abuse and I use it as therapy in music
So put your hands to the sky

Chorus 

Verse 3:
Still on that grass like John Deer’s
This yard is already cut, you can’t get no work here
Uh, you fags thought it was a swag, you was stealin
Turns out I got no peers, just years of street smarts so here you go retards
Come hit this bulls eye, I’ll give you 3 darts
1. my last album Flopped 
2. It wasn’t my time
3. My fuckin mommas sellin my pajamas online…
La la la la la la la la
Laaaa
But guess what?!
I’m whiskey in a bottle now 
Fuckin right I’m aged, I’m dirty 3
I’m not a child who plays with rap to get a piece
Don’t clap for no MC who’s whack
Then get a free slap
Fuck out my car and Im smashed in a caprice
I’m Jack sippin still, whippin wood wheels
Truck on steroids, illegal to play ball
But dammit how good it feels 
Drop that black card, park in the backyard
Baby fire up the grill it’s party time

Chorus