Songwriter: Yelawolf
(Intro)
Bitch!
(Hook) x2
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send that bitch on over here
Put him on the spot, watch his ass drop
Put him on the spot, if he's really hot
(Verse 1)
Red rover, red rover, send that bitch on over
Clotheslining like project patio, off the shoulders with his head
Alabama's own Jason in a hockey mask
I bit Mr. Big for the look, and nobody for the grabs
Ah ah che che, runnin through the madness
The Indian chief is back with a grudge and a hatchet
A tobacco leaf and an antler pipe I'm high and a savage
I slayed a thousand pilgrims off the boat before they found a gun to blast with
Yelawolf is deeper, man
You lookin so sicker, man
Metaphors and hot lines cannot defeat the only champ
Do your research, hit me where it hurts
Pull up some more pictures, try to burn my church, please
I need somebody to eat, I'm hungry
You got plenty of ammo, so try to come and chump me
Let's see, reality TV, Eminem wannabe
My switch from Creekwater my underground LP ha!
Loose your career like leaps loses years
I feel no persecution just you embodying deers
My lines poetic, my crimes prophetic
Hell was on me, I fought the serpent with a spoon and dug out his heart only
To burn it like heroine and inject it into the victims
Of my loneliness as a child, you phonies never seem struggle
It ain't the rhymes I kick, it's the life I spit
Behind the rock in the woods while momma was acid trippin
These ballad sheets are soaked in pure bleach
I can't even see lines, sometimes I fall asleep and wake up to ten pages of rage
Uh, what did I do
I fucked you, you, you and you
Scoldin a can ass bulsky spittin chew
Like a redman should do, but you white, true
To the eyes I might be that, sometimes I feel so black
That I go to the store and buy Paul Maybachs
Give em to my wife, I'm fucking with you herbs
I know my place, I'll never say the n-word
But I'll spray your fender with gravel slangin from my chevy I'm gone
Read my license plate with the rocks and the chrome
(Hook) x2
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send that bitch on over here
Put him on the spot, watch his ass drop
Put him on the spot, if he's really hot
(Outro)
You don't wanna see Yelawolf
Not that day
Monday through Friday, Saturday through Sunday
Bitches get crushed quick
Hush your mouth
Or send your bitch-ass on over here, now
Fist full clinic, shorty fat
Alabama, pissin in a barrel of bees
There go Missy Elliott, splat!
Dollars off, splat!
Bitch!
(Hook) x2
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send that bitch on over here
Put him on the spot, watch his ass drop
Put him on the spot, if he's really hot
(Verse 1)
Red rover, red rover, send that bitch on over
Clotheslining like project patio, off the shoulders with his head
Alabama's own Jason in a hockey mask
I bit Mr. Big for the look, and nobody for the grabs
Ah ah che che, runnin through the madness
The Indian chief is back with a grudge and a hatchet
A tobacco leaf and an antler pipe I'm high and a savage
I slayed a thousand pilgrims off the boat before they found a gun to blast with
Yelawolf is deeper, man
You lookin so sicker, man
Metaphors and hot lines cannot defeat the only champ
Do your research, hit me where it hurts
Pull up some more pictures, try to burn my church, please
I need somebody to eat, I'm hungry
You got plenty of ammo, so try to come and chump me
Let's see, reality TV, Eminem wannabe
My switch from Creekwater my underground LP ha!
Loose your career like leaps loses years
I feel no persecution just you embodying deers
My lines poetic, my crimes prophetic
Hell was on me, I fought the serpent with a spoon and dug out his heart only
To burn it like heroine and inject it into the victims
Of my loneliness as a child, you phonies never seem struggle
It ain't the rhymes I kick, it's the life I spit
Behind the rock in the woods while momma was acid trippin
These ballad sheets are soaked in pure bleach
I can't even see lines, sometimes I fall asleep and wake up to ten pages of rage
Uh, what did I do
I fucked you, you, you and you
Scoldin a can ass bulsky spittin chew
Like a redman should do, but you white, true
To the eyes I might be that, sometimes I feel so black
That I go to the store and buy Paul Maybachs
Give em to my wife, I'm fucking with you herbs
I know my place, I'll never say the n-word
But I'll spray your fender with gravel slangin from my chevy I'm gone
Read my license plate with the rocks and the chrome
(Hook) x2
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send 'em on over
Send that bitch on over here
Put him on the spot, watch his ass drop
Put him on the spot, if he's really hot
(Outro)
You don't wanna see Yelawolf
Not that day
Monday through Friday, Saturday through Sunday
Bitches get crushed quick
Hush your mouth
Or send your bitch-ass on over here, now
Fist full clinic, shorty fat
Alabama, pissin in a barrel of bees
There go Missy Elliott, splat!
Dollars off, splat!
more tracks from the album
From the album
- Piss’n In a Barrel of Bee’z (2005)
Yelawolf popular songs
- Best Friend
- Till It’s Gone
- American You
- Catfish Billy
- Pop the Trunk
- Tennessee Love
- Let’s Roll
- Bloody Sunday Freestyle
- Daylight
- Row Your Boat
- Heartbreak
- Empty Bottles
- Daddy’s Lambo
- Throw It Up
- Devil in My Veins
- Box Chevy V
- Animal
- Love Story
- Box Chevy 3
- Hard White (Up In The Club)
- Johnny Cash
- Have a Great Flight
- Whiskey in a Bottle
- Good Girl