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
