It's the boy Lil' Jon (Yeah!) Got my partner Yelawolf with' me (What's up Yela?) You know it's time to crank the club up Let's go! Yelawolf
You ain't gotta lay down on your bed to know you already fucked up Lettin' me in the motherfuckin' game is lettin' me drunk-drivin' your truck When Yelawolf arrived in this club, already had five in my cup I done took another hit, I done ran into a bitch that's lookin' lifeless and stuck Baby, what's wrong with' you now? What, you ain't happy with' red bottoms? Mad 'cause I'm in VIP with' a fuckin' Jack bottle!? With' Tom, Dick, and Harry But I got up in this bitch with' a tank top 'cause I spit so very darn quick and scary That's why they're so quick to compare me But fuck the critics with' a spiked dick when it can fit barely They probably think I'ma Limp Bizkit, their spit's jelly But I put 'em in the woods, I'm a redneck, I'm a hick, tell me Go ahead, what the fuck does it matter to me? 'Cause after me, there'll only be wannabes, and mostly ain't-never-gonna-bes Yeah, in this forest, I'm a lonely tree My limbs are covered in tattoos, and my roots, they run deep ah!
Two bottles, shawty, two bitches waitin' Two tens, that's a win-win situation Happy birthday, I'm feelin' brand new Drinks on me, for me not you Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, still don't give a fuck
I don't know what to say after that first verse, I mean, like, damn, I just killed it What the fuck am I supposed to do with this cow? I done already milked it Smoke another cigarette, unfiltered, let go of anything that I'm feelin' They done broke me down so many times before that I'm no longer rappin', I'm buildin' With' one brick, two brick, three brick, four Underneath the steps of my single-wide door Raised by them dope boys, so I know how them things look Thanks for the recipe, rest in peace, Wayne Bush I don't cook my shit, I don't break it down for you motherfucker out there waitin' around For some rap savior, you better look up at what it is that you facin' now 'Cause Jesus drives a Harley, the devil wears Prada If God was one of us, he'd prob'ly drink vodka I still kick it at the party when I get rich 'Cause rich or broke, I'm still as dope, the realest ain't as real as this Dead or alive, I'll put a stamp in this bitch You'll never see rock and roll do hip-hop like I did
Two bottles, shawty, two bitches waitin' Two tens, that's a win-win situation Happy birthday, I'm feelin' brand new Drinks on me for me, not you
Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, don't give a fuck Up in the club, still don't give a fuck
Yeah, yeah (Y'all know we don't give a fuck) It's Ghett-O-Vision (Yeah) Shady (Yeah) still don't give a fuck (Nah) (Ya boy Lil' Jon, we rep the South) Happy birthday, Alabama
Up in the club, don't give a fuck ah (Up in the club, still don't give a fuck) I ain't in the buildin', I own the buildin', bitch!
Writer/s: ALEX CARTAGENA, JONATHAN H. SMITH, MICHAEL JACKSON, MICHAEL WAYNE ATHA
Publisher: Bluewater Music Corp., BMG Rights Management, O/B/O CAPASSO, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
Taylor Swift's “Shake It Off” was inspired by how she'd learned to deal with all the false rumors that circulated about her. "The only thing we can control is our reaction to that ,” said Swift. "You can either let it get to you … [or] you just shake it off."