No Hands Lyrics - Wyte Dawg - Yelawolf

Look mama, no hands 

I'm standing on top of a motherfucking hundred grand 

They took a shot, Airball 

You think I give a fuck about you pussys, not at all 

Yela, how's it going? 

Oh man, I'm standing on top of the motherfucking hundred grand 

They took a shot, Airball 

You think I give a fuck about you pussys, not at all 

Ain't no reason to quit, what the fuck I look like 

To put a cease and desist on this heat that I spit, shit, Bitch! 

I believe in my wits, Enough to believe on my kids 

Won't be home till Christmas 

Chevy's on the wish list, no Santa Claus, no ma'am, no problems 

I'm stuck in play like a fair ball 

Know you love to call it trails and hip hopin in the south 

But this country rap tunes 

Got a bitch in the back room with a open mouth ah 

But sacrifice it all and lord knows it 

With my life on the bullseye 

Make a camera be jealous of my focus 

And that's Shady if you ain't notice 

The things loaded, I put that on my great grand daddy named Otis 

In a traffic jam, I got my lane open 

Play the game with the same token 

You did and crack the Bank open 

When they said the rap game was in the drought 

I was swimming in so much dope I had break my lifejacket out ] 

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Get a work out bitch, run your lips 

I know you'd dig a hole six feet deep with a spoon 

Just to see me trip 

You window shopping and can't see the gift 

When the shit is sitting in front of your face 

Like cement in between the bricks 

If the world had name for me, I'd be Slumerican 

This whole shit started out with, Bitch bet I can 

And I do it with Casio and a farmers tan and 

On the top of the hundred grand, uh, bet I stand 

And I made it through cause I had heart 

Waking up to roaches in my cereal box 

Buddy, that's a bad start 

Food stamps in the Pathmark 

When some of these bitch ass rappers would take a dick to say they had it hard 

Don't make one of these slums come intercept you 

Enter your dorm room and punk you, you internet goons 

Im spring loaded with the salt of an old man drinkin a fifth 

And steering with my knee in an old van like hey ] 

Photos 

A couple of loose screws ain't stopping a train from moving 

A couple of bucks short of a bill and im still one hundred proofing 

Under the heat like I been metal roofing 

In a trench coat and a black hoody, head banging to heavy metal music 

I'm now on, thank God, Bamma its on 

Throwing rocks out the window on 20, that's a milestone 

Hello tomorrow, Yesterday is now gone 

I dedicate this song to me, Fuck how wrong 

Shoe laced up, with the Mainstream face up 

With the same team that I came up with 

Mayne what! 

Changed the game up, like a change up 

With a pain that'll drain on to 

Bitch you better remain tough 

Mayne what! 

Used to help Weezy pack up 50 pounds 

Green bay packin a bowl up 

A broke soul packin a couch 

The landlord used to kick me out 

But I went from packing my house, to packing THE house 

Biiiitch 

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