Songtext zu 'Box Chevy 6 (feat. DJ Klever, DJ Paul & Rittz)' von Yelawolf

Uh, yeah

See I'm a walking, talking, barking, biting, fighting
Lightning in a bottle, Chevrolet golden model
Crystal glass full of Creek Water when I wobble
Past the keys to the vallet and hit the bundle
Ridin' vacant, draggin', scrapin', blowin' sparks over
Crossover laws, we jumpin', bumpin' Trunk Muzik
I lose it, I use it, I drink it, I hank it
I Waylon, I Willie, I'm dangerous
Aim for the ankles and this bitch's throat
Who in the fuck is this hick with the flows?
Catfish Billy got that pocket, homie
I'm a rocket, homie, I don't think slow
But I sink low in that bucket seat, low fashion is luxury
If I want it, fuck it, fuckin' yeah, I get it
I must be living on fucking street
Did you poke at that Robert Van Winkle?
Hanging down over his mink coat
I come alone from a known mobile home
I could roll you a cone with no wrinkles
Chevrolet hit with the sprinkles, got an El Camino after Cinco
Smurf Box Chevy like bingo, I got this bitch

Runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red

See I do all the reppin', North Atlanta legend
No piano lessons, I know how to push a key
Wasn't on the Freshmen cover
Guess that XXL wasn't thinking I was good enough to be
Rate me one to seven, I'm eleven
In my Chevy with your lady and her best friend
Make her g-string wetter than a headband
See me on the road and turn around and get a neck cramp
Look at your reflection, paint like I sparked the stars
Shinin' like a diamond, inside of my Audemar
She blow a dick like muah
Made her squirt all over the seat, now I gotta wash my car
It's like I dived on the slide at the water park
Her pussy was gushy, I dropped her off
On the steps like I had a job at UPS
Told her call me but every time we talk, I yawn
And when I and park my car, they come lookin'
And I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' fuck a soccer mom
Or some dork bitch dressing up for Comic-Con
The Chevy bouncing like it had a hydraulic pump
The T-tops are gone, I speed off like a redneck screaming yeehaw
These laws probably seesaw, bring in police dogs
All they retrieve underneath the seat was a big pink double-D bra
That a big broad must've worn, I don't recall
But they tryna give me tickets like I won at Skee-Ball
In a black Monte Carlo, strapped like a narco
Riding through Atlanta bumpin' Tennessee Love
Reppin' CNT, but believe I'ma be Slum 'til I'm 6 feet deep in the ground
Up in my box Chevy speedin' off when I see the GCPD around and I be

Runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red

In my box Chevy runnin', you in a Cutlass
But my dope cut less, pass it like judgement
Wet paint and it's gutted, police say I'm up to something
Put the thirties on that bitch, tell 'em you gotta look up to something (Yeah)
This for the homies that keep money down in they sneaker box, that fast cash
In the trunk of my Box Chevy I keep me a speaker box like Outkast
People tryna get me for it, they staking out like Outback
But I got some killers that's in the front yard and I got some killers that's out back
There's something in my Box that'll put you in a box
Got your ho in my Box Chevy 'cause I'm fucking with her box
I beat the song of the year with a freestyle, who run it?
20 years in the gangster doing laps, and I got this bitch

Runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
We got this bitch runnin' (Runnin'), runnin' (Runnin'), runnin', runnin', runnin' out
I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red

Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
Every time we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red